Sitting in a Tree, Backwards Part III--COMPLETE!
by Bren Williams
Summary: After proposing to Castle out of the blue in mid-season 3, and a sudden, whirlwind marriage, Kate must finally confront the secret she's kept from Rick for seven years. Very Alternate Universe.
1. The Real Story Begins

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

 _ **July 26, 2017**_

 _This is the third, and final installment of the story, now complete in its entirety. Enjoy._

 _ **Important Note:**_

 _Embedded_ _in Part 3 is a complicated backstory. It is also_ alternative universe _-WAY alternate universe-by an author who writes well and enjoys challenging herself._

 _Enjoy._

 _Bren Williams_

* * *

SITTING IN A TREE, BACKWARDS

Part III

* * *

 _ **Mystery**_

 _ **Prologue**_

The white, sandy beaches seemed endless.

Rick heard splashing behind him and turned to find Kate approaching, her golden skin glittering with water droplets. Her bikini was alluring. He wanted to wind his fingers through her long hair and pull her against him, but she moved away, dancing into the shallow waves.

She seemed unaware of him, and yet… the sounds of the waves breaking on the shore faded into music growing louder…. marimbas, guitars and tambourines… Kate whirled and danced, her bikini became long, full skirts with layers of ruffles. She faced him again and he gasped. A skull with hollowed eyes stared back, grinning like a specter of death. Her long, flowing hair was interwoven with enormous marigold blossoms. Her breasts were golden and beautiful, and her limbs as strong and smooth as ever, but the face… chilled him.

She came to him, laughing, teasing. She circled him, shaking her hips in time with the music before twining her arms around him and pressing her bony mouth to his. She clutched at him in sudden desperation. "Remember me…."

Rick sat upright in bed, panting. He stared into the darkness around him. Kate lay beside him, sleeping peacefully. All was quiet, just the pale light from the porthole window above their bed and the gentle rise and fall of a cruise ship at sea. He pushed his hands through his hair, taking deep breaths. The disturbing images of his dream still danced through his thoughts.

 _That dream again. What does it mean?_ He lay back against the pillow. "Remember me," he murmured, rolling to his side to face his wife. He brushed her hair away from her cheek, feeling the whisper of her breath against his skin as he eased himself nearer. "Like I could ever forget you." His voice was barely audible. He traced the line of her jaw with one finger, the dream still captivating his thoughts.

"Sorry." Her voice was soft.

His finger hovered near the tip of her chin and pulled away.

"Kate?"

No response.

He lay beside her in the darkness, waiting and wondering until sleep claimed him.

* * *

 _ **The Real Story Begins**_

 _ **CHAPTER ONE**_

Kate peered out the taxi window, watching for the Statue of Liberty, a beacon in the darkness. Somehow, she never felt like she was home until that moment when they crossed the halfway point into Manhattan. When she was little, she used to salute Lady Liberty, now she settled for a long look. She turned to share a long look with her husband as well, grabbing his hand for a quick squeeze.

"Almost home," she announced. "Did you text Alexis yet?"

Castle met her gaze briefly, and nodded. "Yeah, she's expecting u—me."

If Kate noticed how he stumbled over the last word, she gave no sign. "Are you doing anything special tonight?"

He stared out the window, his brow furrowed. "No, ah, just a family dinner." He swallowed. _You're supposed to be there._ There was a long silence before he added. "You could come, stay the night." _Move in,_ he wanted to add, _like you're supposed to._

"Oh," She turned back to him, her eyes wide. "I hadn't thought—I mean, I could… but don't you need some time with your family? I mean it's been two weeks and….

 _You are my family now,_ he wanted to remind her.

"No." He shrugged, "Alexis, well, she'll spend all of 20 minutes with me, then she'll be off with her boyfriend, Ashley. Mother, you know what _she's_ like. So…."

Kate watched him, her face all too somber.

 _A moment ago she was smiling,_ he noted, a sick feeling taking root in his belly. "But whatever, you know. Two weeks is a long time to spend together and… it might be good to have some space too." He looked away, his hands clenched into fists.

"Yeah, she agreed slowly, hesitantly. "I need some time to catch up on life. Laundry, bills, see my dad…." _Visit Hannah…_ she added silently.

The lines on his forehead deepened at the last but Kate, fiddling with her phone, missed it.

"When do you start back at work?"

"Monday. Give me a couple of days to catch up on some things and we'll get together later in the week."

"Later in the week." he repeated slowly.

She shot him a quick glance. Her phone pinged the arrival of another text and Castle watched her break into a smile reading it. His frowned deepened as his eyes wandered from her face to the phone.

"Lanie?" he guessed.

"Uh, no. That was my dad." She smoothed the smile from her face and switched the phone into standby mode, tucking it away.

Castle raised one brow. "I didn't know a text from your father could make you smile like that." He watched her intently.

"Oh, umm… Actually—" She glanced out the window. "Damn, here already," she muttered, then turned back to Castle. "I'll have to fill you in later." She tucked her phone into her bag and checked her carry on for loose items. When all was secure, she looked up to find Castle staring at her.

"Hey, cheer up. We're home." Leaning forward, she brushed a kiss on his lips. He gathered her closer, deepening the kiss as the cabby pulled up to her building.

"All right, yo fuhst stop." He flicked on the dome light and glanced back in his mirror. "Oh fer the love of Pete! Wouldya get a room already?" The cabby swore under his breath and stamped out of the car to unload the bags from the trunk.

Kate pulled back, searching Rick's eyes. "Hey, Castle, are you okay with this?"

He attempted a smile. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

She looked unconvinced. "It's just for a couple of days while we get caught up on life."

"Right," he agreed, climbing out of the car. On the curb, he grabbed the larger two suitcases. "I'll take these up for you."

"Oh, fer…" the cabby spit in the street. "You're not gonna stiff me with mah metah runnin'. I wasn' born yestahday."

"I'll be back down in a minute," Castle told him with exaggerated calmness.

"Oh sure yah will. Like I nevah heard that befoh. How do I know you ain't gonna disappah into one o' them buildins, laughin' at the suckah with his metah runnin'?"

Castle tried not to let his irritation show. "One, because you have my suitcases. Two, I generally tip well for extra services _, and—_ " he snapped a photo of the license plate. "Three, because I'll come after you if you disappear with my belongings."

The cabby blinked and stepped closer, throwing his shoulders back. "You threat'nin' me?"

Kate did not conceal her irritation. "NYPD. Trust me, that wasn't a threat. Be waiting for him when he gets back or he'll prosecute you to the fullest extent of the law."

They stalked away, their cabby blustering behind them. "This is why I use a car service," Castle muttered.

"And then some." Kate fumbled for her keys. When Castle didn't answer, she looked up at him. "Castle?"

"Kate," he paused, his voice quiet, and he stared straight ahead, not meeting her eyes. "I want you to come home with me."

"What?" Startled, she dropped her keys and he scooped them up for her. He took her hand, turning her to face him.

"Look," his voice was low. "I know it's weird, with everything changing so fast. You live here, I live there, but, this _feels_ wrong."

She stared at him, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. "I.…" She gripped her lower lip between her teeth. "Rick," she took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I… thought we were taking things slow, dating for a while before—"

"Take things slow?" his eyes widened incredulously. "What about this marriage was slow?"

"Castle—"

"We barely quit dating other people before you proposed to me, out of _nowhere_ , I might add. We spent the last two weeks sharing _everything_ on a honeymoon—a very _hot_ honeymoon and—"

"That's exactly my point, Castle. We've had no time apart to decompress or unwind or to figure out—"

"We're married now. We decompress _together."_ The door to her apartment building opened from the other side, and they moved to let a group of young adults dressed for clubbing pass. He waited for them to descend the steps and walk away before he took her hand, squeezing tightly. "We belong _together,_ Kate."

She took a step closer, ducking her head as she brushed a hand over the lapel of his jacket, smoothing away invisible wrinkles. "Rick, don't get me wrong, it was a _fantastic_ two weeks with you." She shot a peek at his stony face. "I _want_ that and more. I want it _all_. I just… I'm not ready to give up my apartment, or… spend every waking moment together. It's a lot of change and it's happening… so _fast_." Her eyes never left his, and her voice dropped to a whisper. "I'm a private person, Castle, and I need some time."

"I'm not _asking_ you to give up your apartment or move in full time… _yet_. Just, come home with me tonight. We'll figure out how to make this work _tomorrow_."

Kate stared up into his face startled by a sudden realization. Warmth spread through her. _He's really in this for the right reasons._ A smile teased at the corners of her mouth, growing until she was smiling up at him.

His face softened as he slid his hands around her waist, pulling her to him, murmuring, "Think of it as a one-night stand."

"I don't know, Castle," she slid an arm around his neck, her fingers gliding into his hair, pulling him down for a kiss. "One night stands are so easy to pass up," she teased, tucking her hand around his arm and they descended the steps together.

"A booty call then. They say a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." He paused to pull her roughly against him and when he next spoke, his voice was velvety and low. "In our case, it may be a journey of a thousand booty calls." He kissed her, hard. Her mouth opened beneath his and he deepened the kiss until they were interrupted by a raucous and insistent shout.

"Oh fer cryin' out loud! Ah ya comin' oh not?"

* * *

Kate pushed Castle's bedroom door open, and rolled her suitcases in behind her, parking them by the door. She glanced around, taking in the king size bed, the warm browns and reds, … the masculinity. She'd only visited his room once, on their wedding day two weeks ago. Now, she noted the black leather headboard and the reading nook in the corner. Photos were scattered through the room. Most notably, a blow-up of a charging bull-elephant commanded her attention. She could almost feel the thunder of its passage. _Very macho, Castle._ She shivered and bypassed the lion stalking her from the frame beside it.

She wandered past a chest of drawers, pausing to admire a small snapshot in a plain silver frame. Castle and Alexis ice skating at Rockefeller Center? Looked like it with the enormous Christmas tree in the background. She ran her fingertips over the dresser without opening them. They'd shared space on their honeymoon, but hotels and vacations were different. _This is Castle's home,_ she mused, _his retreat._ It felt wrong to snoop through his drawers.

Instead, she wandered over to inspect more picture frames on the bedside table. A much younger Alexis smiled back at her, and there was a fairly recent family portrait. Martha stood behind Rick, her arms casually looped around his neck while his similarly cradled Alexis. The loving smiles were imbued with the warm glow of family.

 _If only…._ The frame was intricately detailed, and felt heavy in her hands as she picked it up, wishing for something that might have been. The corner of her mouth pulled down as she set it back down and reached for her phone. A moment later, it rang in her ear.

"Hello?" a childish voice answered.

A broad smile broke over Kate's face. "Hey!"

"Mom! Are you home?"

"I am—well, I'm back in New York." Kate confirmed, keeping her voice low.

"That's so awesome! When are you coming to see me? Are you bringing Rick 'n' 'L-'Lexis?"

Kate settled onto the narrow sofa, "Not yet."

"Why not? I want them to co—ome!"

Kate chuckled. "I'm not bringing them yet because I want you all to myself! I haven't seen you in weeks!" Kate wandered over to the chest of drawers, noticing a chocolate police badge tucked against the mirror. Her smile widened, seeing it. "Besides, you're still _invisible."_

"Oh." There was a brief silence while Hannah absorbed this. "Can I come play spy at Rick's again?"

"What?" Kate stifled a horrified laugh. "No."

"Aw. Maybe you could tell them and bring them tomorrow."

Kate hesitated. "I don't know. The timing has to be right. Have you seen Sammy's puppy, yet?"

"Ohmygosh! Mom, she's so cu—ute! She licked me all over and Sammy and I made her a house out of cushions and a box, but she wouldn't use it. Kendra said maybe she'll sleep in it tonight."

"What kind of dog is she?"

"She licked me all over and she peed _all over_ the kitchen!"

"Puppies do that."

"Yup. Mom, I want one so ba—ad!"

"You know what Papa says about pets."

"Yup." Hannah lowered her voice to sound like Papa, "The bigger the pet, the bigger the noise, the bigger the mess… and I make enough noise and mess for ten puppies."

Kate chuckled, "You sound just like him."

"When you come, maybe you can see the puppy!"

"Maybe." Kate agreed. "I brought you something from the islands."

"You did? What is it?"

"A surprise. Wait and see."

"Tell me what it is!" Hannah pleaded.

"But then it wouldn't be a surprise."

There was a pause while Hannah thought this over. "Are you going to bring it when you come see me?"

"Of course."

"Mom! Mom, Mom! Are you bringing the Harley?"

"I always do."

"Can we go riding together?"

"Did you find your helmet?"

"Yes!"

"Then we can go riding."

"That's awesome! Can Sammy go, too? It's okay with Kendra."

Kate smirked. "Sure it is."

"Oh, Papa's calling me, I gotta take my bath now."

There was a long pause where neither spoke, finally Hannah Joy asked with a plaintive note in her voice, "When will you be here?"

Kate's brow furrowed. "As soon as I can, baby. If I can't come tomorrow, then…" Kate hesitated, her voice low. "I'll come tomorrow."

"Okay." There was another pause. "I miss you, Mom," Hannah replied.

The furrows in Kate's brow deepened. "I miss you too, sweetie. I can't wait to see you."

"I love you!"

"I love you too. I'll call tomorrow."

"Okay. Bye."

 _"I've really made a mess of things."_ Kate leaned her head back against the wall, eyes shut tight, phone still in her hand. She shook her head and looked around Castle's bedroom as if seeking anchorage in a storm. _Things would be so different now if…._

"Water under the bridge," she said aloud, rising. She dragged her smaller suitcase to the sofa. _I just have to find the right time—_ make _the right time to tell Castle that… to tell Castle. Just… one day at a time."_

Sighing, she heaved a rollerboard suitcase onto the sofa, and opened it to peruse its contents. Most of the clean clothes were beachwear, inappropriate for New York in February. She extracted several garments with tags still on, shaking them out. She'd intended to wear them on the cruise ship home, but quantity time alone with Castle dictated more room service and fewer clothes than anticipated. The corner of her mouth quirked in memory and she headed for his closet, flipping the light on and looking for hangers.

"Good God," she muttered, eyeing the extensive wardrobe, shirts ironed and hanging above the row of neatly pressed dress pants, each on a black velveteen hanger. A long row of coats hung on the other side, rain jackets, blazers, suits, several tuxedos, windbreakers, heavy winter coats, and a suspiciously familiar, long, mahogany leather coat. She'd worn one just like it on their wedding night.

"How many coats does one writer need?" She shook her head. _Like I have room to talk._ But, she hadn't come to snoop or gawk so spun in a slow circle, "Where are the hangers?" she wondered aloud.

Not one empty hanger was in evidence. Frowning, she stepped toward the back. There had to be… she peered into the corner and spotted a stack of magazines in the corner. _Oh God, don't tell me…" S_ he left the closet, two tiny lines appearing between her eyebrows.

She wadded the dress and tossed it on top of her suitcase, thrusting both hands into her hair. _This is Castle's space, his retreat. I don't belong here._ She shivered, trying to shake it off.

 _Did she?_

Everywhere she looked was Castle and reminders of his life outside their relationship. She closed her eyes and drew in several deep breaths, wishing she were at home. Her dirty laundry would be sorted by now, junk mail disposed of, and she would be running a hot bath. There would be no awkward greetings at the door, with Alexis brushing past her to hug her dad. She'd have some much needed quiet time to recharge before visiting Hannah tomorrow or joining Castle and his family at home.

She gave herself a little shake before she straightened and turned resolutely back to her baggage. She snatched up several large Ziploc baggies full of toiletries and headed into the bathroom, eyes widening as she surveyed her the room. A wide shower beckoned with room for two and a plethora of shower heads. Even better, the Jacuzzi bathtub was enormous with plenty of space for the acrobatics that sometimes occurred in a bathtub large enough for two.

She dumped her bags on the counter and began filling the tub. In moments, she'd pulled off her travel-weary clothing and pinned her hair on top of her head.

*break*

Lowering herself into the hot, sudsy bath water, she gave a long sigh. After two weeks with Castle, doing all manner of activities, a quiet bath was heaven. Not that she hadn't enjoyed their time together, nothing could be truer, but she was used to time alone—a _lot_ of time alone. A quiet evening at home could rejuvenate her like nothing else, recharge her battery as it were.

She opened her eyes and stared around Castle's bathroom. Warm with brown and burgundy accents, so like him. She fumbled with the control for the jets. There was a rumble as they started up, pummeling her sides. She adjusted them to a gentle stream and settled back in with a deeply satisfied smile.

Her eyes drifted closed as she relived the awkward conversation on her stoop. _Kate,_ he'd said, taking her hand, ' _We're married now,'_ he'd said at last _. 'We belong together,'_ and a shiver ran through her again. He wanted their marriage to be real or he wouldn't have pushed for her to come home with him. Flooded by warmth at his commitment, she'd agreed immediately.

If she could retreat to this bathtub at regular intervals she could get used to sharing living space with three sociable Castles. Yes, solitude was what she craved after sharing nearly every waking moment with Castle for over two weeks. She slid deeper, letting the water rise to her chin as she closed her eyes. Solitude, and time with Hannah, but that was tomorrow's agenda.

She sighed as she sank into the sudsy depths. She drifted deeper, let her limbs go slack, and allowed the hot water to lap at her lower lip.

 _This…._

 _…bliss._

The quiet in this corner of Castle's loft was absolute. For New York anyway. Her eyes fluttered closed and she let her mind drift, letting go of the tense discussion on her doorstep, Martha's effusive welcome… her thoughts lingered on last night's candle-lit love making before… Hannah….

She let go of all of it. Let it rest in her subconscious with her worry about tomorrow. Tomorrow she'd figure out the lay of the land and carve out time with her daughter. Tomorrow, she and Castle would figure out how to make the logistics of their marriage work.

Her thoughts gradually unwound into a series of images and memories of the people she loved… Hannah Joy, Dad, Castle… her chest tightened as her thoughts lingered on him. She bit her lip, frightened by the growing intensity of her feelings. If it went badly with Rick… she squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

The thought terrified her.

A quiet memory of stolen moments on their wedding day slid forward in her thoughts. _Whatever it is, it won't change anything. I'd still want to marry you._ The look of utter commitment in his eyes had calmed her fears. Castle had never let her down before. Surely—

"Kate?"

Her eyes popped open as Castle's voice reached her from the bedroom. She pushed herself upright as he appeared in the doorway. The sound of her name faded on his lips as he paused to take in the sight of her in his bath. A slow smile crept over his face and Kate felt a flush creeping over her that had nothing to do with the water's heat.

"Hey," he said at last, his eyes wandering over her, admiring the dark hair piled on top of her head and her shoulders, bare and glistening, hinting at delights below the frothy water.

"Hey," she answered, her voice soft. "I thought you and Alexis were having some father/daughter time."

"Her boyfriend, Ashley, called," He shrugged and took a few steps toward her, one hand working its way down his shirt front, leaving the edges gaping.

There was something about the way Castle looked at her, desire in his eyes that made her breath hitch in her throat and banished her initial disappointment at the interruption.

His shirt dangled from the waist band of his jeans, jeans that bulged in the front. She watched, fascinated, as he peeled those off too. Her heart pounded in her chest as his silk boxers fell beside them. Her gaze wandered over him from toes to shoulders, pausing at the more delectable parts. Then he reached into the medicine cabinet for a clear plastic bottle.

"What are you doing?"

"This," Castle poured a small amount into his palm, "is baby oil." She could not pull her eyes away as he applied it generously. "It has its uses as waterproof… lubricant." He caught her staring and smirked.

"Baby oil? Really, Castle?" But that was the last thing she said for a good, long while.

Much later, more bubbles appeared on the floor than in the tub but Kate was blissfully unconcerned. She lay against him, sated and relaxed and very much enjoying the sound of his heart against her ear and the slide of his hand over the smooth skin.

"Mmm." She tipped her head up for one more kiss, pushing her pruney fingers into his hair. Hers had half come down and he wrapped a wet strand around a finger.

"Kate, that was—God, this is amazing, being together here."

"Yeah?" She drew back to meet his gaze. There was something soft and vulnerable in his eyes. She brushed his cheek, not realizing that she was holding her breath, waiting to hear what else he would say.

He cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing the line of her lower lip. "Are you unpacked?" he finally asked.

"Oh!" Kate grimaced, sitting up, "Not really. I was going to hang up some clothes but I couldn't find any hangers, and…." she shrugged.

"They're probably all in the laundry room."

"Laundry room?"

"You know, the place where we do laundry?"

She rolled her eyes. "I know what a laundry room is, Castle."

"Well, the housekeeper collects and moves them when she comes. Since I've been gone—"

"There aren't any empty hangers in your closet." she finished.

"Right." He pulled her closer for another kiss. "Were you able to unpack some stuff anyway?"

She sighed. "Where would I put it, Castle?"

"In the—Oh. I need to make some space for you don't I?"

She settled against him again. "That would be _great."_

"My bad. I'll do that right now, well, as soon as… we get dressed." His meandering hand cupped her breast, and he planted a kiss on the top of her head, "Tomorrow, I'll—"

"Dad?"

Kate's head snapped up as Alexis's voice came from the bedroom.

"Oh, I… uh… Alexis?" he called back. "I—we're in the bath. I'll be… I'll be right-I'll just get dressed and…"

"Uh, no rush. I'll be… I'll wait in the living room," Alexis called and they heard the bedroom door close firmly.

Kate scooted out of his way as he splashed and clambered out of the tub, grabbing a towel.

Kate watched the water sheet off his finer assets and settled back into the cooling water, watching him towel dry. "Duty calls," she said nonchalantly.

"Yes, but, I _am_ going to clear out some drawers for you tonight, so you'll have a place to put some of your things."

"Don't worry about it."

Kate rose and Castle snapped a towel off its rack and wrapped it around her, taking a moment to enjoy the feel of her in his arms, towel and all. She tilted her head to one side as he brushed kisses onto the side of her neck on his way to her mouth. The kiss was tender and slow, and she was completely distracted when it ended.

"You were saying, Kate?"

"Hmm? Oh," her brow furrowed as she retraced her thoughts. "Umm… I'm going to bed early. Maybe tomorrow we could… talk about some things." The corners of her mouth twitched, trying to smile, but failed. Her eyes followed him as he pushed his feet back through the jeans he'd abandoned earlier.

"All right, but I warn you, I've been looking forward to sharing my bed with you so… look out."

The smile materialized, warm and sweet. She helped him button his shirt. "In that case, maybe I won't bother unpacking a nightie."

He paused to kiss her again. "That might be wise," he murmured against her lips. The kiss deepened and he nibbled her lower lip before she sighed and pulled away.

"Alexis is waiting," she reminded him, dropping her towel. She watched his eyes wander over her and began removing hair pins, fluffing her hair as it came down.

"I…" he did not move for a long moment. "Alexis, right." he glanced in the mirror and smoothed his hair. He spared one last glance for his still naked wife, and headed into his office, looking for Alexis.

* * *

 _ **The Story Continues...**_

* * *

 _This story is a bit of a rollercoaster, but I wanted to deal with the rushed marriage as plausibly as possible. Fact is, it's NOT going to be a bed of roses after a rushed wedding with never having dated. There's going to be miscommunications and Kate is trying to balance her secrets so she can tell Castle at the right time, the right way..._ There's more to Kate's secret. Beckett's dug a mighty deep hole for herself. Digging out of it is the interesting part.

But right now? _It's a mess. :)_

 _Chapter Two is coming soon. Any favorite parts? A_ _review would be lovely._


	2. Falling Flat

_**Author's Note**_

 _As you read, kindly bear in mind that this story is_ alternative universe _-WAY alternate universe-by an author who enjoys challenging herself, and adjust your expectations accordingly._

 _A number of people contributed a great deal of time to helping make this story as good as it can possibly be. I'd like to thank he Tuesdays with Moist Panties gals and guy for their critiques, as well as Chad. You guys added a lot, thank you. Also, thank you to Teresa, Norman and Silvia for reading the story through for a beta test. And, a big thank you to Lindsay for legal advice. The story would've been finished a lot faster without all of the above, but it wouldn't be what it is. Thank you, thank you!_

 _The wedding gifts mentioned in this chapter were inspired by a column of Dear Abby._

 _Bren Williams_

* * *

SITTING IN A TREE, BACKWARDS

Part III

* * *

 _ **Falling Flat**_

 _ **CHAPTER TWO**_

Alexis slouched against the arm of the living room sofa, staring into space with her Kindle propped against her knees.

"Hey, sweetie," Rick ran a hand over her glossy hair.

She met his gaze for a brief second before her eyes skittered away. "Hi, Dad. Sorry about that."

He lifted her legs and settled them over his lap. "About what?"

She reddened and stared at her Kindle, mumbling, "About interrupting our conversation to talk to Ashley."

"Oh, that."

"And," she peeked at him, "for interrupting you and… Detective Beckett."

"Ah. Don't worry about that. You live here, too."

She nodded without meeting his eyes.

"You know you can call her Kate."

"I know." She was silent for a long moment. "It's just, everything's weird right now."

He nodded slowly. "It will take some time to settle in, get used to her living here."

Alexis didn't speak.

"How is Ashley?"

Alexis made a face. "He's applying to colleges, boring stuff. I mean, it's great, but it's—"

"It's paperwork."

"Exactly."

He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Why do you think I never became a cop?"

A smile flitted briefly over Alexis's face before disappearing. She stared at her hands in her lap.

"You're worried you're going to miss him."

"A little."

"You're worried about him going somewhere far away where he'll meet, and fall in love with, another girl."

The look Alexis gave him seemed oddly familiar; it was Beckett's That-Theory-Is-Too-Assinine-For-Words look.

 _"What?_ No!"

"Well, what's going on then?"

"It's not really Ash at all, it's…" She lowered her voice and flicked a glance toward the stairs. "…it's Gram."

"Gram?" Rick blinked. "Why?"

Little furrows broke the smooth surface of Alexis's forehead.

"Did she get picked up for public drunkenness again, because I told her…."

"No, Dad, she… I'm afraid she's going to _move out."_

"…Oh." Rick's eyebrow's shot up and his eyes were huge. He let out a breath. "That is _such_ a _relief_. For a second, I thought this was going to be _bad_ news."

"Stop it. This _is_ bad news! I don't want her to move away, I _love_ having her here. She's fun and… who will I hang out with when you and Beckett are out late working on a case?" She frowned at the Kindle in her lap before continuing in petulant tone. "Why does she have to move out? It's not like… Detective Beckett is moving into her _bedroom_."

Rick's brow furrowed as they sat in silence. "Did you _ask_ her what's going on?"

"No, not directly. But she's getting calls from realtors, and stockpiling boxes."

Rick stared across the room, thinking. "You know, Sweetie," he finally said, "we sometimes have to make decisions we don't _like_ making. Gram loves being here too and I'm sure she'd love to stay, but—"

"I know all that, Dad! But why does she have to move out at all?"

Rick blinked at his daughter, unsure how to respond. Finally, he said in a soft voice. "Alexis, no one has asked her to move out."

Her big blue eyes gazed up into his. She finally answered in a very soft voice, "You didn't ask her to?"

"Of course not. However, if she _did,_ I might throw a party to celebrate, but… She can stay as long as…" he shrugged, "… everything is working."

Alexis frowned at him. "Working," she repeated.

"Well, yeah. So long as everyone's happy and we have the space."

"Space."

Rick drew a deep breath, "Kate and I, we… want to have kids and—"

"Ew, gross." Alexis made a face.

Rick ignored her. "And at some point we might need her bedroom."

Alexis regarded him for a long moment. "But that's years away, right? I'll be off at college by then."

Rick opened his mouth to reply, but froze as her words settled in. "Very likely," he finally told her somberly.

"Okay, I can live with that." She gave him a big smile and a hug. "I missed you."

He closed his eyes, holding his daughter close. "Pumpkin, you have _no idea_."

She pulled away to look into his face. "But you'll talk to her, right? Tell her she can stay?"

"If she _wants_ to move out, it's not up to me."

The frown was back. "But you'll tell her you want her to stay."

Rick threw up his hands and collapsed back against the sofa. "I'll talk to her about it."

"Good." Alexis kissed him and jumped to her feet, heading for the stairs. "Oh, by the way, Mom's coming next weekend."

"Wait— _what?"_ Rick's eyes popped wide open and he was instantly on his feet, staring at her. "When did this—"

"I think she's flying in Saturday morning. Oh, and Jim Patterson called while you were… in the _bath_." She said delicately. "Something about a poker game tomorrow night?" Her long, strawberry blond hair bounced against her shoulders as she trotted up the stairs. "G'night!"

"Hold it right there!"

Alexis stopped half way up the stairs, grimacing, and faced her father.

"Why is your mom coming and _how_ did this come up?"

Alexis sighed descended to the landing, her shoulders rounded. "It's kind of weird, Dad. She called after the wedding and wanted to know why I was so tired. She was asking all these questions so I told her about your wedding to Detective Beckett. The next thing I knew, she was buying a ticket!"

He nodded slowly, his brow creased with concern. "What kind of questions?"

"About you and Gina, you and Beckett and… Dad, I didn't know what to tell her! This whole thing is so _weird."_ She spread her hands helplessly.

He nodded slowly. "Okay, so your mom's coming and you feel stuck in the middle and… she's staying in a hotel, _right?"_

Alexis shrugged and stared back at him.

Rick gulped and took a step toward her. "She doesn't expect to stay _here!"_

She raised her hands helplessly and met him at the bottom of the steps, her voice rising. "How would I know? She barely told me she's coming! I swear I did _nothing_ to encourage her."

"Okay, okay." He whispered, as he drew her into his arms for a moment. "It's all right. I'll call Meredith tomorrow and we'll get this figured out."

Alexis nodded against his shoulder before pulling away. She gave him a weak smile.

"Get some sleep now, it's getting late."

"Thanks, Dad." She kissed his cheek and pulled away.

He watched her plod upstairs, waiting until he heard the door to her room open and close behind her before he sighed and turned away. _What a mess this homecoming is turning out to be._ He frowned at the empty loft.

* * *

All was quiet when Rick pushed the door open much later. He hesitated on the threshold, the light from his office spilling through the doorway, casting his silhouette on the carpet before him. He waited, listening for movement or Kate's voice calling to him, but only the sound of deep, even breathing reached him.

He shut off the office light behind him and eased the door shut, making his way to the bathroom. She'd tidied their mess, he noticed, mopping up the puddles and leaving nothing more than moist panties to hint at their earlier activities. The counters were another story. A gallon Ziploc bag was propped against the backsplash, stuffed with bottles and various makeup articles. The counter was similarly littered with jars and creams, inspiring memories of the bathrooms they shared on their honeymoon.

He made a mental note to ask whether she wanted her own laundry hamper and devoted several minutes to clearing space in his cabinets and drawers for her toiletries. Smiling, he dropped her toothbrush into the holder next to his. The quiet intimacy of sharing space warmed him and he rather liked the sight of their toothbrushes together, mundane as it was. He undressed in the dark and moved silently to the bed, sliding under the covers.

She lay on her side, facing him, without moving.

He eased his way to the middle of the king sized bed until he was near enough to feel the gentle puff of her breath and the warmth of her body. He pushed her hair away from her face, just making out the darker shadows where her eyes and mouth were, and the bare shoulder peeping out from under the covers. He slid his palm over the smooth skin of her arm. He could see little of her features in the dimness, but her image was long ago burned into his memory.

 _When did I fall in love?_ His thoughts wandered back over the previous years, trying to pin down the moment when attraction merged into something else. Discovering her compassion and strength was part of it, as was her fierce badassery.

The smile faded as he examined their tense discussion on the stoop at Kate's apartment. _How could she think she wouldn't be coming home with me?_

Tugging his pillow, he shifted, reaching under the covers to hike her thigh over his hip, entwining his limbs with hers and stroking her back. She let out a sigh, and burrowed nearer, her forehead against his shoulder. She smelled of the berry-scented bubble bath.

 _She's where she belongs now. Tomorrow, we'll talk._

Contentment stole through him as his mind wandered over the tumultuous homecoming. Meredith coming next weekend was bad timing. He couldn't allow her to disrupt their lives just as Kate settled into his home and family. He would find a way to put her off. Perhaps he could pull a string to get her an audition or an invitation to a red carpet event. Meredith never missed a chance to shine on the red carpet or brag about which designer she wore. The poker guys were more problematic. Since Stephan Cannell died six months ago, they hadn't had the heart to meet for poker. He frowned. He'd rescheduled them once already because of the wedding. He hated to do it again, especially when Michael Connelly had that signing tour coming up.

But, he didn't want any distractions to mar Kate's first week in his home. He nuzzled her hair, breathing deeply, enjoying her scent and the feel of her in his arms, her breath against his chest. He felt the inevitable stirring that accompanied their closeness and his hand glided from her back over her exceedingly fine ass, even as he resisted the temptation to snug her closer, or awaken her for mutual pleasure. That's what morning was for.

"I love you." Kate mumbled.

The breath caught in his throat, and his arms tightened around her. It was a long moment before he could speak around the lump in his throat. His lips grazed her skin from temple to cheek. "Kate," He whispered, "Kate," he murmured again, more for the feel of her name on his lips than her attention. "I love you too," he whispered at last.

She gave a little sigh but did not reply.

He rolled onto his elbow, cupping her face. He lifted her chin to kiss her deeply, love and desire heightening his senses.

Kate made a sound in the back of her throat and her mouth opened to his. He needed no further invitation. His tongue stroked hers as he reached for her, pushing her panties aside to stroke her. She pulled him atop her and rolled back. He pushed his boxers down; she pressed against him, and used her foot to push them away. They came together. Her warmth all around him as they moved in sync, bringing both to a gasping climax in minutes. They lay silent and still, bodies entwined and her fingers buried in his hair.

"What brought that on?" she murmured at last, kissing his neck.

He blinked several times in response. "What do you mean?" he asked, rising onto his elbow, trying to make out her expression.

She chuckled and kissed him gently, tracing the line of his jaw. "Don't get me wrong, I liked it." She stretched and yawned beneath him, creating all kinds of interesting sensations. "What a way to wake up." Her lips brushed over his neck and her teeth nibbled lightly, her arms still wrapped around him.

He kept his voice neutral as he reached for the tissue box. "Yeah?"

She explored his chest with her fingers and he heard the smile in her voice, though she seemed almost shy. "Yeah."

He stared at her in silence. S _leep talking. She said,_ I love you, _in her sleep, then… I woke her up. Wow._ He didn't know what to say.

She reached up, wrapping an arm around his neck to pull his mouth to hers, kissing him again.

"Goodnight," she whispered.

"Goodnight," he responded, even as his thoughts were jumbled with questions.

Kate was already snuggling up to his side, one arm curling across his chest, her breathing slowing steadily.

 _I'll be damned._ He smiled ruefully.

* * *

The bedroom was still hung in shadows, resistant to morning light when Kate's eyes fluttered open. She stretched and yawned before noticing Castle. She closed her mouth abruptly and smiled.

He reached for her, a grin stealing over his face, and crinkling the corners of his eyes. "Good morning," he whispered, pulling her nearer, and entwining their limbs. His lips brushed hers as her arm slid around him.

"G'morning," she mumbled in response, smiling against his mouth as he nipped playfully at her lower lip.

"Mmmm…" she broke the kiss and stared sleepily up at him, enjoying two days of bristly growth on his chin, and his tousled hair. One hand wandered up his arm, savoring the bulges of his arm and shoulder.

His head was propped in one hand. Neither spoke for several long moments.

"Hey," she finally murmured, breaking the spell.

He kissed her again, soft and slow with just a touch of tongue. "Hey," he said finally. "I could stay in bed with you all day."

She hmmed her agreement, cradling his face with her palm. "If only I didn't work tomorrow." she kissed him again and shrugged. "Things to do."

"You could quit your job and we could spend our days in bed…." His eyes followed the sheets as they slid to her waist and she felt him, hard and warm, against her belly.

She chuckled. "You don't think you'd get bored?"

"In bed? With _you?"_

She let her eyes drift closed as he drew her nipple into his mouth, suckling slightly before giving the other the same treatment.

"Not likely." There was a catch in his voice when he spoke again. "Besides, we could start a family."

Her eyes popped open and she stared at a fixed point over his shoulder.

"What?" he asked carefully, studying her face. "I thought you _wanted_ kids."

"I do. I just—" She sat up and pushed a hand into her hair. When she faced him, furrows had appeared on her forehead. "Rick, I— Don't you think we need time to settle in, and get used to…" she gestured with one hand, "all _this?"_

"Well, of course, I… my imagination got the better of me, I was just dreaming."

She nodded briefly, staring at the tight, smooth weave of the caramel colored sheets. "There's something I—"

There was a knock at the door. "Richard? Katherine?" Martha's voice was muffled. "Breakfast."

Beckett abruptly closed her mouth, watching him.

"Be right there," he called.

"Don't be too long," Martha called back. "Alexis is making strawberry happy face pancakes."

Castle pursed his lips at the news and Kate saw him weighing options.

"Strawberry happy-face pancakes are a thing?"

"Yeah," he said. "It's a special form of _I love you_."

"...I see," she answered softly, catching her lower lip between her teeth.

Rick noticed. "What is it?"

"N... It's just, there are things we need to talk about, but…." She took a deep breath and met his gaze. "But I've had you to myself for two weeks. Let's not disappoint Alexis." Kate nodded decisively and threw the covers back. She rose, naked from their bed and went directly for her suitcase, still open on the sofa while he headed into the bathroom. She rifled through the neatly folded clothes and pulled out something black and silky. "Castle, do you have something I can wear? I'm not ready to parade around your family wearing _this._ " She held the scrap of black satin up for his perusal when he returned wearing a fuzzy robe.

He disappeared and reappeared holding open a navy striped bathrobe for her. She slipped her arms inside and he wrapped it around her, his warm body pressed against her as she lingered in his embrace. She leaned her head onto his shoulder, her eyes drooping closed as his lips brushed the side of her neck.

"Help yourself to anything you need, Kate. I rather like seeing you in my clothes."

Her lips twitched. "The same goes for you, Castle. Only…." she turned in his embrace, meeting his eyes with a saccharine, sweet smile. "Try not stretch out the lingerie."

He gnashed his teeth playfully at her. She kissed him back, and they left the room hand in hand.

* * *

The tantalizing scent of bacon sizzled in the air as Castle led Kate into the kitchen where Martha was pulling plates from the shelf while Alexis, still in flannel jammies, flipped pancakes at the stove.

"That smells amazing," he remarked, squeezing Kate's hand.

"It does," she agreed.

"Oh, good, you're up. Richard, we need coffee and, Katherine, will you help me set the table?"

He squeezed her hand one last time before joining Alexis at the stove. "Good morning, Pumpkin."

"Hi, Dad." She gave him a cheerful smile and plopped several pancakes on a growing mound.

The coffee grinder rattled as he dropped a generous portion of beans inside. He lowered his voice to reach Alexis' ears alone. "Are you looking forward to seeing Mom next weekend?"

Alexis was occupied with pouring batter on the griddle and did not answer immediately. "Yes… and no." She frowned. "It just seems like bad timing with you and Kate—Detective Beckett… _whatever,_ arriving home last night. There's so much going on next weekend too." She shook her head and reached into an open bag of chocolate chips on the counter, meticulously dropping them into a happy face pattern on the bubbly pancake. "I have a big project due and I was going to finish my research _this_ week so I could write it over the _weekend_. Now, I'll have to work really hard to have it done before Saturday." She snagged a fork off the counter to rearrange a stray chocolate chip, grimacing when it left a smear of chocolate behind. " _And_ we have extra orchestra rehearsals to prepare for our concert on the 24th!" She shook her head morosely. "I don't know how I'm going to do it all."

Rick filched a handful of morsels from the bag when Alexis wasn't looking. The whine from the coffee grinder muffled the sound of Kate and Martha chatting across the room. He kept his voice low anyway. "Shall I _motivate_ her to reschedule her visit?"

Alexis's blue eyes narrowed. "You mean like bribing someone to give her a role in an up and coming indie film?"

"Or an invitation to whichever coveted red carpet event is next weekend."

"Mom loves the red carpet." Alexis dimpled at him as she poured more batter onto the griddle. " _Dad!_ Don't eat all the chocolate!" She lowered her voice to match his. "If you can provide motivation for her to reschedule, _be my guest._ "

He measured the coffee grounds into the golden filter of the coffee maker and winked at her. "Weave it boo me," he said around a mouthful of chocolate.

"Leave what to you?" Kate asked, sliding her arms around his waist from behind.

"Da coffee ob course," he swallowed with effort. "Just give me another minute." He grabbed the carafe, kissed his wife, and reached around Martha to fill it at the sink. "My role in this family is _provider_ ," he told Kate, "provide lots of coffee."

"Katherine," Martha interjected. "While you were out of the country, I found some adorable notecards you might enjoy using for your thank-yous. More importantly, I got you _these."_ Martha slid a set of keys across the counter.

Rick flipped the coffeemaker on and turned back to his family. "Why thank you, Mother. You'd make a fine personal assistant if you ever gave up Broadway."

"Phshaw," Martha waved the idea away as if too ridiculous for consideration.

"Keys?" asked Kate, inspecting the key ring. "To the loft?"

"Of course," Martha said. "You live here now. Or you will. No more knocking on the front door. There's one for the back door to the alley, one to our front door, another to the fitness center…

"Thank you, Martha." Kate smiled at her mother-in-law. "That was very thoughtful."

Martha patted her cheek. "Darling, don't even mention it. Just come and go as needed."

Rick snaked a hand around her waist pulling her against him, and whispering in her ear, "Emphasis on _come…_ to the table." Then to the whole family, "Let's eat."

* * *

In a short time, they were delightfully satiated, lingering around the table over coffee when Martha asked, "So, what are you lovebirds doing on your first day home? Something romantic I hope."

"I was thinking of a romantic, candlelit trip to the laundry room." Castle said, leaning back in his chair.

"Oh, Richard," Martha sighed. "The honeymoon ends too soon."

Kate cleared her throat. "Unfortunately, I'm back at the precinct tomorrow and I haven't been home yet."

Rick's face became unexpectedly still. "So that's your plan? Go back to your apartment?"

"I have to sooner or later. Why delay?"

"Richard, you could go with her you know. Alexis and I fended just fine for ourselves. Go, stay with your wife!"

Kate's fork momentarily froze on its final trip to her mouth. She recovered, took the bite and set it down with a clatter. "You want to, Castle?" she asked carefully.

He gauged her reaction, considering. "I'd like to, but the mystery writer poker party is tonight."

"How many are coming?" Martha asked.

"He doesn't know, that's the _mystery_." Alexis winked.

"Three, Dennis Lehane, Jim Patterson, and Michael Connelly. It's the first game since Cannell died so… it's special. I can't reschedule again."

Kate nodded her understanding and rose to take her plate to the kitchen.

"Oh, darling, before you two run off, there's something you both need to see." Martha rose and went to the kitchen, reached behind the counter and returned with a folded section of the newspaper. "Your secret wedding isn't so secret anymore."

 _"What?"_ Kate frowned as she set her plate on the counter and followed Martha back to the table.

"What do you mean?"

Martha handed the newspaper to Rick who unfolded it, laying it across the breakfast dishes. He and Kate peered at the article Alexis pointed out to them, and a photo of Rick and Kate stepping onto an elevator together, still dressed in wedding clothes.

" 'Richard Castle arrived at the Rivermark Hotel last night with the inspiration for his character of Nikki Heat in tow. It looked to be a tumultuous night for them, as he was witnessed, by reporters, slamming a car door in NYPD detective, Kate Beckett's face. She later snuck into the their hotel, joining her assumed husband with the help of several men dressed in drag who willingly provided details after being plied with drinks at the Rivermark's upscale bar, The Crescendo. The pair were photographed as they stepped into the private elevator going to the Rivermark's most exclusive Regency suite for the night. Between Mrs. Castle's subtle white dress, and the story she gave the drag queens, all evidence points to the pair celebrating their wedding night.' "

"Son of a bitch!" Rick exploded.

"Richard, just tell me one thing, you didn't really slam the door in Katherine's face did you?"

"And what really happened with the drag queens?" asked Alexis.

Kate pinched the bridge of her nose while Rick wadded up the newspaper into a tight ball, pitching it toward a waste paper basket. He missed.

"All right, kiddos, Martha said. "The damage is done. That was weeks ago and the news cycle has since moved on."

"Hopefully, you won't get too many nosey questions." said Alexis sympathetically.

"You're right," said Kate, briskly. "The damage is done." She rose and reached for a decimated serving platter, lifting it.

"Don't leave yet, Kate. We have something for you." Alexis dimpled, looking from one to the other. "I have a wedding gift for you both."

"Oh," Kate hesitated, and set the platter back on the table. "Alexis, you didn't have to do that," she protested, sinking back into her chair.

"A present?" Castle's eyes danced, he stretched his arm across Kate's shoulders.

"Oh, I know." Alexis disappeared into the laundry room for a moment and returned holding a large gift bag stuffed with tissue and decorated with doves and wedding bells. "I'm just sorry we didn't have time to shop _before_ the wedding. For you."

"We?" Castle said as she set the bag on the floor between them.

"I have a gift, too," Martha announced. "But it's not for you, Richard, at least, not directly." She winked at Kate.

Hesitantly, Kate divested the bag of tissue and pulled out a decorative throw pillow. It was burgundy crushed velvet with gold braid and embroidery, colors that would go beautifully with Castle's bedroom. She read the embroidery aloud, " _'Yes'_?"

Castle chuckled. "Read the other side."

She turned the cushion to read the embroidery on the back. " 'I have a headache.' "

"There's one for Dad too."

He pulled the second pillow out of the bag, heedless of where the tissue fell. "It says, ' _Yes!'_ on one side and…" he suddenly grinned and revealed his reply to Kate's headache. " 'I have aspirin.' "

Kate covered her face, hiding her blush. She was still smiling when she turned to Alexis. "That's adorable. Thank you."

"Now, off with you." Martha waved a languid hand at Castle. "My gift isn't for Richard's eyes, at least, not yet," she said to Kate.

"That's my cue..." Grinning, Castle rose and took the cushions from Kate, "… to clear out some drawers. Thank you for breakfast, Alexis." He dropped a kiss on the top of her head and left.

Martha waited for him to disappear before producing a much smaller gift bag hidden under the table containing a long, animal print peignoir with a slit up one thigh and a plunging neckline. Black fur edged the hem.

Martha winked at her, "The fur is faux, of course, darling. But, it's only there to keep your _neck_ warm anyway."

* * *

astle came out of the bathroom, towel drying his hair to find Beckett lugging a closed suitcase off the bed. She was dressed in the same jeans and long, black boots she'd worn yesterday.

"Good, you're out." she greeted him. "My car should be here any minute and…." her voice trailed off when she saw his face change at the sight of her suitcases, closed, locked, and neatly arranged by the bedroom door. She shoved her hands in the back pockets of her jeans.

"You're leaving," he said quietly.

"I… yeah. Just for the night," she answered just as quietly, "maybe two."

"Is this how it's going to be? You're here one night and I'm there the next; we sleep apart in between?"

She met his gaze and answered with as much honesty and sincerity as she could muster. "I don't know, Castle. If we want it to be."

He didn't answer for a long moment. "What if I want you to move in?"

She shook her head. "It's too early for that."

They stared at each other, the pile of suitcases between them. Finally, he gave a humorless laugh. "That is just rich. It's too early to move in, but it's not too early to get married."

She flinched. "Castle, it's not that I don't _want_ to be living with you here, it's just, I imagined a transition period where we would… sort of date… sleepover… get to know each other better… on a more intimate level before we do anything drastic like—"

"Drastic? Like get married? That kind of drastic?" He scowled.

She pressed her lips together and walked toward him.

"We are _married_ , Kate. Married people live together."

"What if I'm not ready, Rick? What if I'm not ready to take that final step?"

He pushed a hand through his damp hair and gestured helplessly. He walked away, yanking open a dresser drawer and pulling out a pair of jeans.

She followed him, tentatively resting her hands on his bare shoulders. Her fingertips glided over his skin as she whispered, "It's not regrets or second thoughts but there are things… It's not easy for me to open up to someone Rick, even you. I'm private and I… I need a place to retreat to, a place to be alone."

He faced her, his mouth a grim line.

"I _will_ move in, Rick. I don't know when, but it will be once we _both_ decide the time is right." Her gaze never wavered from his.

At last he nodded reluctantly. "Fine." Neither spoke or moved for a long moment. Finally, he shrugged and turned away. "You should go; the car will be here by now."

She didn't move for another long moment. She took a tiny step closer, resting her hands on his chest, and looking into his face. "I'll miss you tonight," she whispered.

"Me too." His folded clothes tumbled to the floor as his hands slid around her waist, pulling her to him. His lips brushed hers and her tongue met his in a sensual caress. His hand glided up her back.

She stepped back, pushing a shaky hand through her hair. "I have to go."

He nodded.

She turned and dug through her messenger bag while he pulled clothes on.

"I have something for you." Something was clasped in her hand. She took his and set the object in his palm, closing his fingers around it.

His eyes widened as he felt the jagged edges of cool metal.

"It's my extra set of keys. I want you to be able to come over as you wish," a glimmer of a smile appeared, _"sleep over…."_ she kissed him.

He stared at the key ring still cupped in his hand before sighing and pocketing it. "Booty calls. I like it." He made an effort to smile.

She hesitated, staring at him, her mouth open as though about to speak. Finally, she stepped closer, kissing him tenderly. She stepped back, her eyes still on his. "I—I'll see you." Unsmiling, she backed away. She left the room, dragging her suitcases behind her.

Martha was still tidying the kitchen as Kate moved resolutely across the living room, avoiding eye contact with her mother-in-law.

"Are you leaving, Katherine?"

"Yes," Kate called over her shoulder as she worked the locks and pulled the door open. Martha did not respond. It was a moment before she'd maneuvered her suitcases into the hallway, her lips pressed in a grim line. She closed and locked the door to Castle's loft behind her, her emotions roiling within her.

The deadbolt snicked into place and she stood, staring at the polished wood.

"What was I thinking?" she whispered. She squeezed her eyes shut and let her forehead rest on the door in front of her. Finally, she straightened, dashed the tears from her cheeks and dragged her suitcases away.

* * *

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	3. Secrets & Trust

_**Author's Note**_

 _As you read, kindly bear in mind that this story is_ alternative universe _-WAY alternate universe-by an author who enjoys challenging herself, and adjust your expectations accordingly._

 _Bren Williams_

* * *

SITTING IN A TREE, BACKWARDS

Part III

* * *

 _ **Secrets & Trust**_

 _ **CHAPTER THREE**_

 _Near New Shrivenham, New York._

By the time Kate stuck her head in the door, Hannah was snuggled in bed, reading. There was a quiet twitter from a covered birdcage in the corner. Kate gave the room a quick once over, noting most of the toys were tidied away.

"Hey, Sweetie. Are you ready for bed?" Kate moved directly to the window, checking the lock and frowning at the gaping curtains. "These need to be closed _every_ night."

Her daughter looked up, "No one can see in, Mom. I'm up to high."

Kate arranged the lavender curtains so there were no gaps, and turned back to her daughter. "Promise me you'll kee—"

Hannah had other things on her mind. "Are you going to stay here and take me to school tomorrow, Mom?" she asked, her gray eyes were wide and hopeful.

The concern on Kate's face faded into a warm smile as she moved closer. "You know I can't, Joyous. I'd have to leave so early in the morning to be at work on time."

Hannah turned her book upside down to keep her place. "Can't you take the morning off?"

"Hannah Joy," Kate sat beside her daughter. "I wish I could," she said gently, "but, I've been away from my job for two weeks. I have to work tomorrow."

Hannah's somber gray eyes met her mom's. "But you haven't been _here_ in two weeks either." Her lower lip jutted out. "Aren't I more important?"

"Always."

Hannah considered for a moment then nodded. "Mom?" she finally asked, "When are we going to live together again?"

Kate took Hannah's hand in both of hers. "Soon, I hope."

"Maybe you and Rick and 'Lexis could come live here?" her eyes were huge.

Kate smiled. "We'll have to wait and see how things develop. Maybe we could all visit next weekend."

Hannah sat up abruptly. "Really? Next weekend?" Her book tumbled aside unnoticed while a huge smile lit her face.

Kate's brow furrowed slightly. "If I can finagle it."

"Will everyone stay overnight?"

"I can't speak for everyone, but _I_ will. Probably Rick… but I haven't talked to him yet."

Hannah blew out a breath and plopped back onto her pillow. "Seriously? You haven't talked yet?" She rubbed her face with both hands. "You guys need to _get it together."_

Kate gave a rueful smile. "Probably so."

"So, are we still playing spy, cuz Rick doesn't know about me yet?" She gave her mother a mischievous sidelong glance.

Kate hesitated. "He will by then." She got up and pulled the lavender comforter up to Hannah's chin and smoothed the girl's dark hair back from her face.

"What if he doesn't like me?" Hannah whispered.

Startled, Kate blinked at her, disconcerted. "Not possible."

"But, what if he doesn't?"

Kate leaned over, planting a hand on either side of Hannah's shoulders so their faces were close together. "Rick's going to love you. There's no doubt about that."

"But how do you _know?"_

She stared at her daughter in silence for a long moment. "Because I've known him for a long time, and I know how much he adores Alexis." She smiled, her voice a whisper, "He is going to _love_ you."

Hannah stared into her mother's eyes. "Mmmm." She reached up, running her hands over Kate's hair and tucking it behind her mother's ears. "I love you, Mom," she whispered.

"I love you too, Hannah Joy." She kissed her cheek, smiling down at her. Then she flipped the corner of the blanket over, and confiscated the flashlight hidden there.

"Wait, that's mine!"

"And it still is. You can have it tomorrow, just _not_ for reading in bed _tonight_." Kate took the book too, stuffing a convenient bookmark inside as she set it on the bookshelf under the window.

Hannah pouted.

"Mind that lower lip, young lady. It may work on Papa but not me." She flicked off the lamp. "Now get some sleep. I'll see you, Saturday."

"G'night, Mom." Hannah yawned and curled up on her side, blinking up at Kate.

Kate's phone rang.

"Is that Rick?" Hannah asked, yawning. Kate rose, pulled the phone out of her jeans, and glanced at the display.

"It is," Kate winked at her and held a finger up to her lips. Hannah smiled back. Kate whispered, "Good night, Hannah Joy." She went to the door as she drew the phone to her ear. "Hey, Castle." She pulled Hannah's door shut behind her.

* * *

 _New York, NY_

Rick Castle stared up at the building above him, a slight furrow creasing his brow. The only visible window of Kate's apartment was dark. He straightened the leather jacket he wore over a dark blue shirt, and ran his hands over his hair. He shifted his grip on the overnight bag, checking that the wine bottle was secure before hurrying to the stoop, and buzzing Kate's apartment.

No answer.

His mouth twisted in annoyance and he buzzed again. Still, no answer. He frowned at his watch. Only 8:15. She could be in the shower or out, picking up groceries. _Or the buzzer could be broken._ He shrugged and dug in his pocket for her keys, grimacing. _Didn't expect to need these so soon._

Several moments later, her apartment door opened with an eerie creak and he stared into the gloom. _She's not asleep, not this early._ He pushed the door shut behind him, peering into darkness.

"Kate?" he called uncertainly, flipping on a light. The distant blare of a car alarm from the street below was the only reply.

"Kate?" he called again, glancing around as he meandered into the kitchen. Her suitcases stood abandoned outside her bedroom, and two weeks' worth of newspapers and mail lay piled on the table. His brow furrowed. She was so anxious to get home this morning, unpack, and do laundry. An unsettled feeling tightened his stomach as he surveyed the chilly apartment. The heat was still low, the windows shuttered and covered. Clearly, she'd come and gone. His gaze fell on the baggage again, still zipped closed with travel locks in place. He frowned. He should return home, check in with her later.

Or, _I could wait for her._

His frown deepened. A bag was missing. How many times had he counted them, making sure they'd retrieved them all from a baggage claim? Four were his, three were hers, seven in all. Her small saddlebag was missing, the one she'd used for their excursion to St. Croix, just big enough for toiletries and a couple of changes of clothing. The tightness in his belly was replaced with a sick feeling. _I'm being paranoid,_ he thought. _She took it to her room to unpack first,_ he rationalized. _She just—there's a logical explanation, there has to be._ He looked around uneasily. _I should go._

But, instead, his feet carried him into her bedroom. He'd long imagined how it would look, guessed at the details, what embellishments she'd choose. Those held little interest now. He scanned the room for the missing bag, and checked the far side of the bed. There was no sign of her homecoming, only her clothes from yesterday, dumped in a previously empty laundry basket.

The bathroom door was ajar and Rick pushed it open, checking the drawers for a sign that she'd unpacked from their honeymoon or planned to return to sleep. Nothing. The toothbrush holder on the counter sat in disuse, toothpaste smudged around an empty hole.

Rick closed his eyes. _Where the hell is she?_

There was a lot he still didn't know about Kate Beckett, he acknowledged, _and,_ he supposed, _there are things she doesn't know about me as well._ The sick feeling grew stronger as Josh Davidson's face swam before his eyes. _No! There is another explanation, there has to be._ But he swallowed hard, trying to push the insidious idea away. Tight bands gripped his chest, making it difficult to breathe. He gulped in several breaths, trying to calm the panic hovering below the surface. He yanked his phone out of his pocket and found her number instantly. Her photo popped onto the screen, her expression as self-contained and forthright as ever.

 _Kate Beckett is no cheater._

The thought came from inside, some unknown sense of truth. He took a deep breath, as the words washed over him. He hesitated then tapped the _end call_ icon. _There is a plausible explanation for this,_ he told himself firmly, putting the phone away. _I jumped to conclusions because—well, because we married too quickly, and before we were ready, and… and… it's what I do._ He slid the phone back into his pocket. _Maybe she returned to the loft to spend the night with me again._ Warmth ignited in his chest, releasing the tightness. _A rational explanation! There has to be some rational explanation where everything makes sense!_

But the worry hadn't left his face, and his imagination continued nattering away at the many questions remaining unanswered in their relationship. He switched off the lights, removing any evidence of his presence, and returned to the main room. He stared bleakly at the remaining suitcases. _I should leave._ He snugged his winter coat a little closer against the apartment's chill. Behind him, the refrigerator kicked on with a low murmur.

 _This is going to drive me nuts._

He took one last glance around the apartment and his own face caught his eye. He crossed the room, turning the desk lamp on to get a closer look. He remembered exactly where and when the photo was taken. They were stuck on an elevator for an hour and a half, alone. Naturally, they took selfies to pass the time. That picture grinned back at him now, from a small collage of Kate's work friends. There were pics of Rysposito, she and Lanie on a girl's night out, judging by their clothing. There was another of Kate and Montgomery from early days. The photo of the whole team he'd insisted they take at last year's Christmas party finished the collage.

He rubbed the glossy frame with his thumb. Kate never let anyone see how much her friends meant to her, but here was evidence, tucked away in an unobtrusive area of her home. He should leave without snooping further, and let her reveal the private details of her life when she's ready.

But, another collage caught his attention and he scoured it for more clues to her secrets. Photos of Kate and her parents, and myriad of other family members, some he recognized from the wedding, others not. Rick recognized Kendra easily from the wedding. She smiled back at him from a selfie with Kate, their cheeks pressed together and huge smiles emphasized the resemblance. Kate's first cousin, he recalled. She was Jim's niece. Her parents, Andrew and Terri, hadn't made it for the wedding. Kendra lived in Shrivenham too, or so he'd gathered from a brief conversation with her husband just before Logan tackled a freckled three year old determined to explore the upstairs. There… a family portrait showed Kendra and Logan's happy faces, the freckled three year old was a toddler here—Jonny! That was his name, and their older kids—wait—two of their older kids, daughter, Sammy and 12 year-old Keith.

Where was the other girl, the one Jim chased back upstairs after the wedding? He spotted her easily in another collage, her long, brown hair covered by a vivid purple helmet and seated on a motorcycle with Kate. He gave a low whistle as he took in Kate's leather pants and jacket. _Seriously badass._ There were several more pictures of the little girl, one on Jim's lap with a stern-looking elderly woman, and another of the girl missing several teeth in a school picture stuck in the crevice between the glass and frame.

"Hunh." Rick grunted, perusing the pictures a second time. _Why isn't she in the family portrait with Kendra and Logan?_ He shrugged before turning back to the bedroom. _Maybe she's adopted._

He paused in the doorway for one last look around.

Her mom's picture, in the largest collage opening, honored the woman who shaped her early years and whose death changed her world. The miscellaneous family members were arranged around that photo. The collage of her work family was the same, her selfie with him took up the biggest frame. If there were photos of Josh around the apartment, they were gone, he noted with satisfaction.

He flicked the light off and prowled back into the kitchen, buttoning his coat against the apartment's chill as he paused beside the table, staring down at the pile of newspapers and mail. His eyes narrowed as he realized she'd taken the time to open a package. He pushed the brown paper wrappings aside to stare at the glossy hardback it hid. _Naked Heat._ Kate ordered a copy of his book on Amazon? He peered at the wrappings. No, not Amazon, the package was from the Rivermark Hotel, where they stayed on their wedding night, and posted a day _after_ their wedding. _Purchased at the hotel gift shop perhaps? Why?_

His brow knit in confusion. Hadn't he given her an advanced reader copy? Yes, he remembered her rolling her eyes at the naked silhouette on the cover. Why ship this copy to herself, and why the secrecy? Why the day after their wedding? He hefted the book in one hand and it fell open, revealing a single crimson rose bud, flattened in the book's pages. He held it by the stem and twirled it between his fingers as the pieces fell in place. It was the one he'd given her. The one he'd plucked from an arrangement just before she descended the stairs. She'd saved it, secretly shipping it to herself rather than packing it into her luggage.

Why keep it secret? He pulled a stool out from under the table and sat, still contemplating Kate's mysteries. The rose's scent was strong, heady even, and its stem still somewhat pliable. _And to think she kept this to herself._ Mystified, he shook his head. _Why is she afraid to show her feelings?_

He flipped through the book, looking for more clues to the mystery of his wife when he spotted her handwriting on the dedication page:

 _Richard Castle and Katherine Beckett_

 _Wed January 24, 2011 at home._

His throat tightened as he stared at the crisp, clean notations, warmth flooding through him. His fingertips traced the words she'd etched onto the page, feeling them write themselves onto his heart. _Home_ , not _Castle's loft,_ she considered his loft _her_ home—her _future_ home, anyway.

Why did he fall in love with such a determinedly difficult woman to get to know? Would she ever truly let down her guard to share all those intimate details she seemed determined to hide? He shook his head again, frowning at the page. But, then, what did he do the second she gave him a set of keys to her apartment? Went snooping for clues as if… as if…. He grimaced. _Trust is a fragile thing._

He'd go home and wait for her to share her secrets. He wouldn't bother mentioning his explorations here because… well, because, it didn't matter at all. But his phone was in his hand and he was dialing Kate's number without another thought. She answered on the third ring, her voice low.

"Hey, Castle. What's going on?"

He heard the smile in her voice; it washed over him, warming him. He smiled in response. "Kate, hi. I was thinking of you… and…." Damn but she affected him. His body responded to her in spite of the distance. He suddenly didn't care about her private life or where she was. They belonged together and… she would tell him in time. In the meantime….

"What are you wearing?"

Her voice changed in subtle ways, becoming lower, sultry even. "What do you _imagine_ I'm wearing?"

He closed his eyes, imagining her lying in his bed wearing… "A loose fitting T-shirt," he began, picturing the way the fabric settled over her breasts.

"A T-shirt, Castle? Really?"

"You should see the way it fits you! Now don't interrupt." The Kate in his imagination smiled faintly in amusement at him, her eyes warm and her skin golden in candlelight. He told her as much and she hummed approvingly.

"What else am I wearing?" She asked.

She sounded breathy and intimate, like she were lying beside him. It matched his fantasy perfectly.

"Handcuffs," he answered, "and a thong." She chuckled and he followed it up with, "Now, what are you _really_ wearing?"

"Trust me, your imagination is better."

He waited her out.

"Jeans," she finally answered. "Jeans and a Stanford sweatshirt."

"I didn't know you own a sweatshirt."

"I do, I just save it for… downtime."

 _What?_ He wanted to ask. _What do you save it for?_

She changed the subject. "How was poker? Did they beat your pants off?"

"Nope, still on."

"Too bad." The Kate in his imagination smirked.

"Jim had to fly back to Malibu and Michael is coming down with something… we canceled."

"Oh." Her voice held a soft note of surprise.

"I used the time to empty some dresser drawers, and write." He ran a thumb over the table's edge, noting the smoothness of its seam. He _had_ been writing before he went looking for her. "It was going really well, too."

"Yeah?"

"Until I got to a place where I need your help."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah. See, Rook uncovered some… _inconsistencies_ about Nikki's life, but Nikki doesn't realize he knows." His voice trailed off.

The silence that followed was pregnant with unanswered questions. "Is he going to ask her about it?" He detected a slight edge in her voice, a struggle to stay nonchalant.

He twirled the rose between his fingers. "No, he's decided to wait and hope she'll tell him soon."

"I see." There was a long silence and when she spoke, he heard the discomfort she must feel. "I… um…. How do you need my help?"

"Soon after his discovery, Rook arrives at Nikki's apartment to find her sound asleep, _nude."_

The smile was back in her voice. "Is she in bed?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Lucky Rook." Kate's voice was low and seductive. "Maybe Rook should find Nikki's handcuffs…"

"Oooh?"

"And cuff her to the bed."

Rick had to catch his breath. "Rook might want to do that," he managed.

"And if he can find a rope or… a belt, or necktie, he could lash her legs to the bed, too," Kate added.

"God!" Rick's heart pounded in response to the images she awoke in him. He shifted on the stool. "Do you remember when I handcuffed you? On the beach?"

There was a pause before she spoke and when she did, her voice was husky. "I'm not likely to forget _that."_

The side of his mouth curled up. "When will I see you again?"

"I could come home with you after work tomorrow," she said quickly

"That—"

"I'll be sure to leave my handcuffs where you can find them," she purred.

A smile broke over his face. "I might lose the key."

A chuckle rippled through the phone. "I have an extra."

A companionable silence fell between them. "I'll see you then," he said finally.

There was another pause before, "Yeah." Neither moved to hang up. Finally, "Goodnight, Castle." Her voice was low, almost a caress.

"Night."

Rick sat for a moment longer, still cradling his phone and staring at the notes Kate had written. Plucking a black marker out of a mug of pencils, he uncapped it and autographed the title page. He hesitated, then, turning to the dedication page, he tenderly wrote, _To my love._

* * *

New Shrivenham, NY

Kate lay on the bed in what served as her room at Kensington Manor, staring at the shadowed ceiling. She let the phone fall to the bed beside her as a long sigh eeked out. _I've got it bad. He's in my head, my heart…._ _not just under my skin,_ She closed her eyes. _And I haven't even told him about Hannah Joy._ The tight feeling in the pit of her stomach was back and she bit her lip, frowning. _He knows… something._

 _Goddamnit!_ She pushed her hands into her hair, gripping and tugging tightly. Her thoughts were a jumble of worry.

She rolled onto one side and sat up. _I'm not ready for this to explode in my face, but we can't continue like this either!_ She shook her head, and blinked back tears _. I have to tell him, whatever happens, I can't keep this from him, not if I—_

"Katie?"

Startled, Kate sat up to find her father standing in the doorway. "Dad—I… I was just…." She swallowed and stood up. "I am going home tonight after all." She didn't meet his gaze but heaved her saddle bag onto the bed, gathering the few items she'd removed earlier. "I wouldn't see Hannah Joy in the morning anyway, so I might as well—"

"You talked to Rick?"

"I… yeah." Her movements slowed but she continued tucking her belongings back inside the bag.

"What did he say?"

"N-nothing. He didn't come right out and say _anything_ at all, he just…." She whirled to face him, a hairbrush still clutched in one hand. "It's just that, I've been keeping this secret from him for so long and, I hate this. I _hate_ the fact that he doesn't know about my daughter, _our_ daughter, and that I didn't tell him years ago. And what a _fool_ was I, thinking we could just get married and I could tell him afterwards that… that we have a daughter and everything would be just all violets and rainbows, that he would accept it and we'd continue with…." She stared at him in silence. "What was I thinking?" Her voice was soft.

Jim nodded slowly. "It's a mess."

"Yes."

"And you're in love with him."

Her eyes widened as she stared at her father.

"I'm in love with him," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

Without another word, he pulled her into his arms. She buried her face in his collar.

"Dad," she whispered long moments later, her cheek rested against his shoulder. "What am I going to do? How can I tell him without destroying everything?"

"The truth. There's no way around it."

She pulled away, staring into his eyes. "How, Dad? How do I go to him and tell him, 'We made a daughter together seven years ago. _Surprise.' "_

"Yes," Jim nodded slowly. "Just like that. There's no sugar-coating this, Katie." He hesitated then added, "But, you don't necessarily need to tell him all at once."

She reached for a tissue, drying her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Can you tell him you have a daughter without telling him her paternity?"

She shook her head emphatically. "No. I can't. I have to tell him everything." She stared at him. "Besides, you have no idea how his imagination runs away with him." She turned back to zip up her bag.

"So, be vague on the subject of her father, just until they meet. Then, when the moment is right—"

Kate froze in the act of lifting her bag to her shoulder. "Tell him the rest," she whispered, her eyes frozen on her mother's portrait on the wall across the room.

"Tell him." Jim shoved one hand in his pants pocket, a slight frown crossing his face. "Or not."

"Wait," Kate scooped up her motorcycle keys and stared at him. "What?"

"All he needs to know is that Hannah's father is out of the picture, that the position is vacant."

 _"What?"_

"You've kept it from him for six years already."

"That's different! I had reasons…." Only the soft whirr of the furnace was heard as she broke off and turned away, her chest aching. _Reasons that would never be good enough._ She shook ahead, unwilling to meet her father's gaze.

Jim continued matter of factly, "You're worried the knowledge of Hannah's paternity will irrevocably damage your relationship with him, but there's no father listed on the birth certificate. You don't have to tell him that part. Keep the secret, take it to your grave if you must. Later, if he agrees, put him on the birth certificate. He'll have all the rights of a birth parent."

The wind was blowing outside and tree branches scraped across the window pane as she stared at him. When she spoke her voice was tight with conviction. "Dad, keeping the truth from him is the biggest mistake I ever made. I am not going to let another week go by without correcting that."

His voice was deadly soft. "Even if it means losing him."

Kate swallowed, her eyes huge. "Even then."

"Good." Jim nodded decisively. "But, the longer you wait the worse it will be." His voice was emphatic. " _Tell_ him!"

Kate crossed her arms and glared at him. "I intend to."

"That's my girl." Jim gave a little smile and nodded, but his face still bore the weight of his concern.

She took a deep breath, and spoke, the words tumbling out. "Listen, I'm hoping… I want Hannah Joy to live with us."

Jim nodded thoughtfully. "One thing at a time."

"Right. Of course." she nodded. "If things go well with Rick maybe she could spend a weekend with us soon."

Jim regarded her in silence, his expression neutral. Finally, he answered, "As soon as you and Rick are on the same page."

Kate's mouth flattened into a grim line as she hefted her leather saddlebag, and arranged the strap on her shoulder.

"Katherine," Jim's brow was furrowed and his voice was firm. "You've taken risks, a _lot_ of risks with your marriage by not telling Rick beforehand." The lines on his face deepened. "You've been lucky so far, especially with Hannah at the wedding, that nothing came of it."

Kate nodded her agreement.

"You can't keep taking chances. If someone reveals this secret to her in _anger,_ it will forever damage her view of her family."

Kate stared at her father. Slowly, she lowered the bag back to the bed. "What are you saying?"

Jim wet his lips. "You're worried about your marriage, and rightly so, but, there's also a child involved. Don't let Hannah Joy anywhere near the explosion."

Kate gave a stiff nod and he turned to leave the room.

* * *

 _Thanks to everyone who is sticking with me. You'll get some answers soon._

 **Chapter Four** is titled: _**Reveal**_.

Please leave a review.

 _twitter: at Bren_Williams_

 _facebook group: Bren Williams Reader Forum_


	4. Know When to Hold 'em, Know When to Fold

**_Author's Note 7/16/2017_**

For those who may be wondering, I posted an updated version on 7/16/2017, and changed the title. Nothing drastically different.

* * *

 ** _Author's Note:_**

 _As you read, kindly bear in mind that this story is_ alternative universe _-WAY alternate universe-by an author who enjoys challenging herself and adjust your expectations accordingly._

 _Big thanks to everyone who contributed to making this chapter everything it can be. (You know who you are!)_

 _Please join my facebook group: Bren Williams Reader Forum or follow me on twitter: at bren_williams_

 _Bren Williams_

* * *

SITTING IN A TREE, BACKWARDS

Part III

* * *

 _ **Know When to Hold 'em, Know When to Fold 'em**_

 _ **CHAPTER FOUR**_

 _New York, NY_

She came to him in his dreams again, the faceless Kate whose empty eye sockets seemed to speak to him, reminding him of something. _It's about a murder,_ he thought desperately. _My subconscious is trying to tell me about a case._ Only, no case came to mind.

She wandered around him, the flesh of her hands, smooth and beautiful, sliding over his chest and arms, gliding over him as she circled.

He faced her. "What do you want?"

She pushed him away and he found himself in a strange, round bed with vividly hued bedding. When she kissed him, her bare teeth felt soft and warm, like human skin. She pulled away, the naked bones of her face stretching and morphing into flesh.

Then she was Kate, _his_ Kate, as whole and beautiful as ever. And nude. They moved together as one and he cried out when she rose from their bed. She reached into her hair, her face marred by a complicated expression as she produced a Mexican Marigold. She offered it to him with a sad smile before abandoning him.

"Why?" he called after her, but she wouldn't explain. She set a finger to her lips, turning away as Rick awakened in his own bed at home, dimly lit by a faint glow from the windows.

 _Great. Now I'm going to be awake for hours._

He lay listening to the silence around him, staring at the dark ceiling as he contemplated his recurring dreams and Kate's empty apartment. "So weird," he finally muttered. Rolling to his side, he faced the emptiness beside him. _Kate should be here…_ He caught the lingering scent of her perfume on his pillow and his longing deepened until he was distracted by a sound in the living room.

 _Mother?_ He rose, pulling a T-shirt over his bare chest before moving noiselessly to the powder room to check. From its deep shadows, he glimpsed a bulky figure stealthily close and lock the front door.

 _Did Alexis sneak out?_

 _Doubtful._

He remained hidden, watching and waiting as the figured glided toward him, making no noise on the thick carpet.

He frowned and faded back, wishing for his handgun locked away in the safe, or at least a saber, but the intruder was between him and the fencing swords standing uselessly by the front door. Rick moved into the deeper shadows of the small bathroom, holding his breath as the prowler passed him, moving directly into the bedroom.

Rick followed several feet behind. He was about to attack when a spicy, citrusy scent reached him. He flicked the light on instead. The intruder whirled to face him, hand reaching for a gun that wasn't there.

 _"Kate?"_

 _"Oh my God, Castle!"_ She frowned at him. "Don't sneak—"

"I almost took you out!" he laughed, hugging her. "What are you doing here, and, _why"_ he shivered, "are you so damn cold?"

She didn't speak, but wrapped her arms around his waist, closing her eyes. He was still grinning when she pulled away.

"I suppose now you feel smug for surprising me." A reluctant smile teased around her mouth.

"A little bit." His gray eyes danced. "You jumped about a foot!"

She shook her head and moved away. Her face was somber as she dropped a bulky saddle bag beside the bed.

He stared at the leather bag, the one that was missing from her apartment earlier. _The bag, that's why I didn't recognize her…._ "You're staying the night?"

"I… yes. If…." But she did not finish, biting her lip instead as she unzipped her leather jacket. She tugged thick gloves off, finger by finger. "Maybe," she said finally as she dropped them beside her bag. The jacket came next. She did not once look at him, but let it fall. A long fuzzy scarf was unwound and cast aside. Finally, she stood in silence, chafing her arms before tucking her fingers underneath them.

He took in each detail, a slight frown creasing his forehead. "Kate?"

Her face was deeply flushed, as if with strong emotion or deep cold. Or both.

 _What the hell?_ He approached without speaking, clasping icy fingers between his palms and rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. Slowly, very slowly, she turned toward him, but did not meet his gaze.

"Kate," he finally said, and at last her eyes met his. "Where were you tonight?"

She swallowed and her lips parted. Finally, her greenish-gold eyes met his. "Rick, there's something you need to know, something I should have told you a long time ago." She swallowed again and set her mouth in a determined line. She squared her shoulders as if about to face something unpleasant. "I have a six-year-old daughter."

Neither moved. Time passed in the quiet tick of the clock on the wall, and cars passing on the streets, but not even the never ending sounds of sirens in the distance broke the intent stillness between them. He stared at her, his face a mask of disbelief as the silence stretched too long.

"A daughter…" his brows furrowed. "You have a _daughter?"_

Kate hesitated, taking in each detail of his face, the layers of shock in his voice. "She lives—"

His gray eyes flashed with sudden fury. _"You have a daughter?"_

Her brow furrowed, and she dropped her gaze to stare at her hands, then tucked them under her arms to warm them.

"What the hell, Kate? Don't you think that's kind of an important detail to mention _before_ the wedding?"

She pressed her fingers against her lips, nodding.

He struggled for, and managed, a little more control. "Why am I just now hearing about this?" His voice felt tight, constrained.

Her face became still as she met his gaze with regret. "I should have told you, Rick," she whispered finally, her voice aching. "I'm… sorry." She swallowed but was unable to meet his eyes as she continued. "I _wanted_ to tell you, but it was so complicated and everything happened so fast—"

"Fast?" He took a step closer. "Kate, I've been shadowing—I've been your _partner_ for over two years! _Why didn't you tell me?"_

She frowned at the floor before beginning again, "Rick, I try to keep my private life _private_ and I…I really believed you and Gina were going to reconcile and… _remarry."_

He blinked and cut her off. "What does _Gina_ have to do with this?"

She pushed a hand through her hair. "I'm trying to explain why—I didn't tell you sooner. I'm very private. You know that."

 _"Private_ I get. But this isn't some kinky _Jem and the Holograms_ obsession. You have a daughter you've never even mentioned and… How do you even keep something like this secret?"

"Well, she didn't start out—"

His eyes narrowed suddenly. "Do Ryan and Esposito know?"

She blinked at him. "No."

He seemed slightly mollified, but his voice was sharp. "Does _anyone?"_

She stared at him. "She didn't start out a secret, things kind of evolved." She held her palms up.

Frowning, he crossed his arms. _"Un_ -evolve it."

Kate drew in a deep breath. "Of course, but… This is going to take a while, could we have something to drink?"

Rick gave a decisive nod as he led the way to the kitchen. "You talk, I'll pour."

She followed him without speaking, arms still crossed over her belly, pausing only to grab a fuzzy throw blanket off the arm of the sofa and wrap it around herself. She perched on a bar stool, and accepted a glass of red wine. She swirled it, staring into its depths, seeming unable to meet her husband's gaze.

She took a deep breath and plunged in. "Hannah Joy was born about a year after I made detective. We were at the 19th Precinct then, Montgomery and I, and everything started out very _normal,_ out in the open—"

"So Montgomery knows." His voice still had an edge to it.

"Yes."

"Anyone _else?"_ His arms were crossed over his chest, and his voice was sharp, like shards of broken crystal.

"Lanie."

He raised one eyebrow. "And?"

She hesitated before adding, _"And_ my friends and co-workers back in the day, but…."

"Are you kidding me?"

"What?" she sighed and chafed her arms. "I wouldn't joke about something like this, Rick."

He unfolded his arms and took a step nearer, gesturing emphatically. "What in the hell happened for her to become such a big secret?"

Kate met his gaze evenly. "We were stalked by a pedophile."

His eyes became huge as he gaped at her. "Oh my God." He turned away, running his hands through his hair before facing her again.

"A pedophile," he whispered, "A child molester."

She nodded, her voice low as she continued. "He got his hands on two little girls from our daycare."

"Please tell me… she wasn't—"

"He never got his hands on Hannah Joy, but… the other two…." She shook her head and turned away, staring at the cold, dark fireplace across the room. "Do you want to hear more?" she asked, finally.

He pushed his wine glass away, untouched, ignoring how it sloshed onto the counter. "This conversation needs something stronger."

She waited as he grabbed tumblers out of a cupboard and scotch from the liquor cabinet, splashing a little scotch into each. When he turned back to her, his expression had changed from shock to compassion.

"Go back to the beginning, please," he said quietly as he came around the bar to take the stool beside her. "Hannah's dad."

She nodded slowly. Her hand shook slightly as she accepted her whisky. Eyes drifting closed, she drank, holding the tumbler to her chest as the fiery liquid burned its way down her throat. "I met Hannah Joy's father at a low point in my life," Her eyes were still closed. "Back then, I spent most of my off-duty hours searching for leads on Mom's murder, pounding the pavement near the alley where they found her body, talking to locals, searching for someone, _anyone_ who remembered her. Someone who knew _something."_

He cradled his glass, unable to move or take his eyes off his wife.

Her voice was stronger now, as she stared across the room as the facts of her past tumbled from lips. "But if anyone did, they weren't talking. Montgomery eventually discovered me pouring over her file, without authorization, and the next thing I knew, I was a rookie detective, learning the ropes of homicide." She drew a deep breath, let it out and took another large swallow. "It was a year later that I hit rock bottom."

She lowered her glass and their eyes met. Her voice was softer now. "My dad was a mess, and Mom's case consumed my waking moments, but more and more it looked like a dead end. Finally, I reached out to the one person who always seemed to get what I lived with, who never tried to pat me on the head and tell me to move on." Her voice ached with emotion and a need to make him understand. "Mom's case, Rick, it was the one thing keeping me going, but I _needed_ something, _anything_ to move forward and month after month, year after year, I got _nothing."_

Rick's eyes were glued to her face, waiting, not knowing what he expected to hear.

"Do you remember Mike Royce?"

He blinked. "Royce. Your training officer?"

She dropped her gaze to stare into her glass. She sipped and nodded. "I was at rock bottom, and I needed…." She took several ragged breaths, shaking her head. "It wasn't a good time for me."

"Royce is Hannah's father."

It was her turn to blink at him. "What? _Royce?"_ She shook her head emphatically, "No! _No_ , we never…." She made a face. "He clearly wasn't interested, so…," she drew a deep breath. "I left. I didn't see him again until that case last fall with the buried sapphires."

"What about her father?" Castle asked, slowly confused.

Her tumbler paused enroute to her mouth, and she stared into it for a moment. "He's someone totally different, someone that I met on my way home that night." Her voice was very quiet. Slowly, she turned to look directly his eyes. "You…." She hesitated then gave a little shake and continued with her story. "It was everything I wanted and needed that night, a physical attraction and a spicy sweetness that… helped me move passed my inner struggle."

Rick made no response but stared at her abandoned wineglass.

"We were together just that one night."

"You never saw him again," he mused.

She hesitated about to speak. Finally she replied, "Hannah's never met him." She squeezed her eyes shut, opening again to find Rick staring into space.

"That little girl at our wedding, the one who ran back upstairs, just before our departure."

Kate nodded, her mouth a tight line. "Hannah Joy."

"She lives with your dad? In New Shrivenham?"

"On Grandmother's estate, yes. But, she didn't always."

"What happened?"

Kate nodded. "It was Hannah Joy that pulled Dad back from his addiction." She drew in a deep breath and let it out again. "She became his reason to live, his reason to get up in the morning, a reason to smile." A smile flirted with her mouth as she became lost in her memories. "I was three months pregnant when I told him the news. I met him at work, just before he would've gone home and we went to dinner, while he was still sober. She lifted her glass to drink, but the smile seemed to slip away as she caught the scent. She set it down again. "He knew why, of course, why I chose that restaurant."

"They didn't serve alcohol."

Kate nodded as the smile materialized. "It became _our place,_ the one we go to for important conversations."

"And?"

"I was so afraid he'd be disappointed, even angry that I hadn't lived up to my dreams, and—my parents had high standards." She shook her head, her expression solemn. "I told him, I couldn't have him around if he was drinking, that if he wanted to be around my baby, he needed to be sober." Her eyes slid closed for a moment.

"Was he angry?"

She shook her head and blearily turned back to him. "Far from it. He never took another drink."

He nodded slowly. "She gave him purpose."

"Yes," she agreed. "It helped him to be needed, relevant to someone again." She sighed and pushed her hair back, tucking it behind her ear, her eyes drifting closed again. She shook it off. "I'm independent, Castle. I don't like accepting help from anyone, but…" she stared at the counter. "I don't need to tell you how difficult single parenting is." Their eyes met.

"No, no you don't." There was another long silence before he stated, "You never told Hannah's father."

She gave him a sidelong glance and her brow furrowed. "No, I didn't think… I thought about finding a way to contact… him, but I never did. Once Dad knew, he made so many changes. For the first time since Mom died, he was taking care of himself, being present for me…." She swallowed. "For years, Dad couldn't make it through the day, or face the night alone, without the bottle. He was… locked inside his sorrow unable to find his way out. Rick," icy fingers clasped his, "it was like losing _both_ my parents." Her voice was low and almost pleading. "I was afraid that if her father was present, maybe he'd slide back into old habits."

"Of course." He nodded slowly. while Kate gave an enormous yawn. Her eyelids drooped closed, taking longer and longer to reopen.

"You must be exhausted. It's after two."

"Yeah," She gave a half-hearted nod, sliding off her stool. She dragged the throw blanket off the stool, folding it loosely. She laid it over the arm of the sofa and meandered around the room. She lingered at the baby grand piano, her eyes wandering over the collection of family photos.

Rick eyed Kate's half-full wineglass, still burning with questions. Snagging it, he followed her into the living room, "How did she end up living with your dad full-time?"

"That was so gradual, we were halfway there before we realized it was happening." Kate turned away from the photos, and wandered toward the sofa. "When it was time to register for kindergarten, it seemed like the only way it could work. Only Hannah Joy needed the stability of spending the week in one place." She settled onto the sofa with a soft groan. "Let me back up. Dad asked me to move home before Hannah was born."

"But you didn't." Rick sat beside her.

"No, I was 24 and more than capable of caring for a baby," an ironic smile pulled at her mouth. "Or so I thought."

Rick nodded, staring at a chip in the coffee table. Kate's eyes wandered over his face and she inched nearer, facing him.

"Then she was born, and had the worst case of colic…. Dad spent three solid weeks sleeping on my sofa. It was tiny and cramped. It just made more sense to come home. We were all a lot happier."

"How long did you stay?"

"Until the bombing last year."

"What?" he blinked at her, lowering his glass. "The apartment that blew up last year, you _grew up_ there?"

"Since I was three." She gave him a sad smile. She lowered her voice and stared at her hands. "I can't tell you how _glad_ I was that she—that Hannah was with Dad when that happened." Their eyes met and neither spoke as Rick grasped the meaning of her words.

He shook his head, rubbing his hands over his face. The stubble was like sandpaper. "You have a dangerous job, Kate."

"Why do you think she lives upstate?" Kate whispered. She cleared her throat and continued. "The three of us were, um… _content_ sharing space." She hooked her elbow over the back of the couch, pillowing her cheek on her arm. "I started therapy that year. Dad did too. You already know how I searched for a lead on Mom's killer, how Mike Royce broke my heart. It was a low point in my life until I realized Hannah was coming."

"That wasn't a low point?" A corner of his mouth twitched.

"Not once the shock wore off." She smiled suddenly, a beautiful, joyful smile. She reached out grasping his hand tightly in hers and her voice lowered to a whisper. "All of a sudden I had something real to live for, Castle, that didn't begin or end in _murder_." Her eyes slid closed. "Hannah _Alegria,_ " she whispered, "Hannah Joy."

The warmth in her face, the love for her daughter that she kept submerged but now oozed out of her pores, like any besotted parent. He knew what that felt like, the life you sheltered and struggled to protect—

"When you're surrounded by murder, lies, and deceit, a baby…" she whispered, "is a blessing."

Rick nodded, his smile echoing hers. "I can see that." He finished his wine and set it on the coffee table, jostling Kate as he rose. He stood in the center of his loft, trying to absorb everything she'd told him so far. His brow furrowed as thoughts overwhelmed him. _I can't believe this, I can't believe she didn't tell me…_ any _of it._ He shoved his hands into the pockets of his pajama pants as he moved toward his office, still struggling to grasp the enormity of the double life his wife led. He stood there for a while, alone with this thoughts, and leaning one hand against the jamb.

Finally, there was a rustle behind him as Kate sat up, trying to shake off the weariness. "I—" she rose, a little unsteadily. Her voice was soft and low. "Anyway, that's when I finally realized I needed to put Mom's murder behind me and _live._ "

Neither spoke. The silence stretched for minutes.

"Rick?"

"That must have been difficult," he finally answered, not moving.

"It was." She answered uncertainly.

He knew, he should turn and sit beside her on the sofa again, listening to the details of a life he never guessed she'd lived. Somehow, it was too difficult.

"Rick, if you need some time, I know this is a lot to take in."

He turned back toward her. "No, it… it's fine." He made an effort to smile. "I just needed a minute."

"It's late, maybe we should—"

"What? No!" He tried to refocus on his many remaining questions. "How does Hannah fit into your life, Kate?" He gestured for her to follow him into the office, to sit beside him on the loveseat. "Why does she live with your dad, how can you be the kind of mom that yours was to you, and _what happened_ with the pedophile?"

Kate's face became drawn and furrows appeared on her forehead and around the eyes. "A little girl from Hannah's daycare disappeared one day. Will Sorenson was on the case. He took me on as a consultant, that's how we met. I helped him solve the case, but it was too late. Another child disappeared. I insisted Dad stay home with Hannah, that the daycare close until…. We caught the guy. He was the daycare owner's boyfriend." Her voice took on a tone of bitterness. "She remembered to background check her employees, but didn't think about her _boyfriend."_ He'd come over and do odd jobs for her. She trusted him completely. She didn't know he was poking through her files, stealing addresses, contact info... We found child porn all over his computer, and photos of _Hannah_." She sounded brittle and cold. "She was his next target. He had our address, photos of us walking home…."

"How old was she?"

"Three." Her tone was bleak. "I was at the crime scenes, Rick, all of them. It wasn't pretty." Her hair fell forward, shielding her face from his view.

An icy chill ran down his spine as his imagination filled in what she left unsaid. "And this is why you're so private, why Hannah lives with your dad." His voice was rough.

"I've always been private, Castle." She took a deep breath, let it out, and squared her shoulders. "But after that happened, I became hyper-vigilant about Hannah's safety. I _know_ life isn't risk-free, that I can't wrap her in bubble wrap to keep her safe, but I like knowing that in the country, the people she comes in contact with are limited and I can run background checks on any new employees Dad or Logan hire at the Kensington Manor. I like knowing that Dad can be there for her after-school, and that Kendra's nearby to help. She has cousins to play with every day—it's almost idyllic."

 _Idyllic, except her parents are absent and her grandfather plays both roles all the time._ Rick shook his head and kept his thoughts to himself. "After the pedophile was apprehended you sent Hannah and your dad off to live at Kensington Manor?"

"Uh, no, that's not how it happened. Grandmother was growing infirm. We tried hiring caregivers to be with her but she's so cantankerous, no one lasted more than a week. She was always accusing employees of stealing something, she was… difficult. You have to be accepting, unconditionally. Dad moved there for her safety and to manage her care. For all that, she was sharp, still clever, and always manipulative. He was so good to her, Castle. He was the son-in-law, you know, but he could talk her down when no one else could." Kate fell silent, leaning her chin into her hand.

"So your dad brought Hannah to the farm… estate… whatever."

"At first, she was with me full-time, but life as a single mom is difficult anyway, but when that single mom is a homicide detective…." She shook her head, and her shoulders sagged.

"Even when your job is tailor made for a stay-at-home-parent, it's not easy," he said softly. "Yours…."

"Is not so family friendly," she agreed. Her face was hidden from view as she stared resolutely at her hands. "Daycares try to offer flexible hours, but none of them are open all night or before six a.m. "You know what my job is like when we are working a fresh homicide case, all hands on deck at _all_ hours. Montgomery was great about cutting me loose to be a mom, but… I always felt like I'm letting the victim down, like I'm not doing _enough."_

He frowned. "But to do less would be letting your _daughter_ down."

She nodded slowly. "They say parenting is a balancing act, but there's no middle ground, not for me, Rick." Her words came slowly, in a tone he'd never heard her use before. "There's no happy medium where I'm satisfied with my work/life balance." She gave a humorless laugh. She rose again, moving toward the window, staring out at bright lights and the darkness beyond. Her voice was low and full of self-directed anger. "Dad made far too many trips home to help with Hannah while I worked active homicides. It ran him ragged. So, it made sense for her to spend days at a time in New Shrivenham, to enroll her in preschool there."

Her voice softened and she turned back to him. "She loved the freedom, the fields, and animals. Best of all, _cousins_." She sighed. Grandmother was easier to deal with when she was there, too." She swiped at something on her cheek and drew a deep breath. "It worked pretty well, trading off. She's happy, loved, and cared for. She misses me when I am gone, and Papa when she's here. If Papa stayed in the city, Grandmother suffered." Her brow furrowed as she paused, biting her lip. "So, I got used to missing her." She looked away, staring at the ceiling, her arms folded across her chest and her shoulders rigid. "That's part of the reason I never wanted to tell anyone. It was hard enough living it, I didn't need to rehash my shortcomings as a mom." She shook her head, not meeting his eyes.

"Kate," he began but broke off. "Nobody's perfect—"

"Yeah?" she asked bitterly, shaking her head. "Well, when it comes to parenting, you're a pretty tough example to follow." She turned away again, fidgeting with the mementos on the bookcase.

His mouth dropped open, and his eyes widened as he shot her a quick glance. "I… I'm flattered," he stumbled, searching for words, "but this isn't a competition." Green-gold eyes locked with his warm gray ones for a moment.

She gave a brief nod and cleared her throat. "Hannah's lived with Dad full-time since she started kindergarten." She continued briskly. "It seemed like the best option for her at the time."

"A year ago?"

"And a half. I've looked for positions in communities nearby. I even had several interviews, but withdrew every time." She moved closer as she spoke. "I'm a _homicide_ detective, Rick, a _city_ cop. That's who I am." She spread her hands and let them fall again before giving a deep sigh and collapsing on the loveseat, her face in her hands.

Neither spoke as the minutes passed. Rick's gaze wandered around the room, lighting on the stack of photos resting on the piano, the wedding proofs Alexis had produced yesterday afternoon. Most were joyful, laughter-filled, but there were several where Kate's expression was shadowed, anxious. Those were the ones when one of the flower girls had spontaneously jumped into their carefully posed photo. He'd thought nothing of it at the time, but now, anger erupted under the surface. _She brought her secret daughter to our wedding and passed her off as…._ He gave his head a shake, struggling to make sense of her life and priorities and to push back the fog brought on by exhaustion and confusion. The enormity of her deception boggled his mind. _Why in the hell would she do this?_

"Why did you propose to me?" he finally asked quietly.

She slowly turned toward him, blinking. "What?"

He tried not to hear the catch in his own voice. "Is this why you proposed to me?

Startled, she blinked at him.

"You wanted a nanny to care for your daughter?"

Her mouth dropped open and she gaped at him.

The thoughts he'd pushed aside for the last several hours stumbled into words, thoughtless, angry, and flying out of his mouth. "You were looking for a way to keep her with you in the city, right? Are you expecting me to raise her? To care for her while you're working homicides?

Kate blinked and lifted a palm to interrupt. "What exactly are you saying?"

Rising, he shrugged and his voice held a hard edge as he stared down at her. "I can't help but wonder how you could propose to me without telling me you have a child. Now…. Surprise! Here she is! The product of you and some other guy! Are you expecting me to raise her as my own? Are you wanting to bring her _here?_ Move her in as soon as Mother moves out?" His breath came fast, the sick feeling from when he'd explored her apartment back in force, along with a feeling of dread. _This isn't, this isn't how I meant_ _that—"_

"The product of me and some other…" Kate rose to face him, her voice trembling as she said, "We are exhausted, _both_ of us." She brushed passed him on the way into the bedroom.

How could you propose to me, _marry me,_ without so much as an 'Oh, by the way, I have a daughter. That's not a deal killer is it?' What exactly did you expect from me? Am I supposed to be happy about it?"

Kate froze in the midst of zipping up her leather motorcycle jacket as all the color drained from her face. "You're supposed to be…" but she cut off suddenly, shaking her head and rubbing her forehead, her eyes tightly shut. Her leather gloves gripped tightly in her hand. "I can't do this tonight, Castle."

"Kate—"

"No." She held one hand up to silence him. _"Hannah…"_ she drew a deep breath and opened her eyes, "doesn't have a father, Rick." Her chest rose and fell rapidly and her voice was tight. "I was hoping she would now. Whether or not it remains that way is up to you." She snatched up her saddlebag and left the room.

"Kate, don't—" He tried to catch her by the arm, but she sidestepped him. She paused at the door, her hand resting on the knob,

Fury boiled over, consuming him. "You're leaving. You're _running away!"_

Her frown deepened. "No, Castle, I'm going _home,_ to _sleep!_ She took a step toward him. "We're both _exhausted_ and we need to walk away from this, for _now."_

Her eyes appeared a startling green against her flushed cheeks. She pushed her hair back, and left him standing alone in his silent loft.

* * *

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 _twitter: at Bren_Williams_


	5. In the Beginning

_**Update:**_

 _Important reminder This is a season 3 fanfiction._ That's in 2011. (Yes, this story has been in progress for six years.)

I've already had one reader ask, "What are CFM pumps?" CFMPs are shorthand for 'Come-F-Me-Pumps. Think sexy stilettos and you'll have the right idea.

The story continues with a much shorter wait for the next chapter. Promise.

 **January 14, 2017**

 _Once again, I'd like to thank the friends whose generous gift of time and feedback made this story better. You know who you are. Readers are welcome to follow me in my public **facebook group, Bren Williams Readers Forum** or on **Twitter**. ( **at Bren_Williams** ) I always respond to PMs on Fanfiction dot net as well._

 _As you read this story, kindly bear in mind that it is more alternate universe than most._

* * *

SITTING IN A TREE, BACKWARDS

Part III

* * *

 ** _In the Beginning…_**

 **CHAPTER FIVE**

 ** _November 1, 2003_**

Kate liked being alone, reveled in it most of the time. Tonight was the exception. She frowned into her gin and tonic, staring into its depths and ignoring the man two tables over. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and bit down on her lip, struggling to breath evenly. _This isn't how it's supposed to go._

He was attentive during dinner, but once the lights dimmed, his attention wandered. She'd disappeared into the bathroom, checking her appearance, wondering if looking sexy was enough to get the point across. Maybe a direct hint or two… get him onto the dance floor, press against him… Her pulse had raced as she contemplated what might follow a couple of drinks and some dirty dancing. She fluffed her hair and left the bathroom to find her _date_ had abandoned their table for one with apparently greener pastures, chatting up several hotties who looked barely legal. Kate waited several minutes, deflecting other males while trying to catch his eye. _Am I supposed to join him?_ She glanced his way again, trying to keep it casual. _I'm probably not the wingman he prefers._

He slouched on his stool, his arm resting along the back of the chair next to him, which was occupied by a stunning redhead in a bandage dress. Like her friends, she laughed at something he said.

She turned away, struggling to contain her emotions. The outside world, the one she'd hoped to keep at bay for a few hours, sucked her down. Her chest rose and fell deeply as her chin trembled, almost…. She shook her head, lifting her face.

 _No, I'm not losing it, not here. Not like this._

She took a deep breath and scrounged in her bag for a pen. Grabbing a napkin she scrawled, _Heading out,_ on the back of a napkin. _Best of luck with the new job._ _–K_

Kate stared at the words before crumpling the napkin, stuffing it into his glass. _To hell with this._ She straightened her shoulders and sauntered to the table where he slouched in a chair with the sorority girls.

She got right up into his personal space, leaning into him. "Hey."

He jumped. "Hey, kid." He turned back to the girls. "This is Ashley, Britney and Candi."

"Hi," She gave them a cursory greeting before running a hand over his chest to toy with his earring. "Thanks for dinner, you are so sweet." She traced the line of his jaw with the back of a finger. "I'm calling it a night, but I wanted to say," she paused to collect the attention of everyone at the table. "Try not to worry about that burning sensation. I'm sure it'll go away in a couple weeks."

She smiled brightly at the girls who alternately gaped at her and gave Mike Royce shifty looks.

"Bye!" One last girly wave and she left, smirking as Royce stammered protestations behind her.

She gave him no opportunity to catch up, but pulled her leather jacket tighter around herself, wondering why she'd bothered with the mini skirt and CFM pumps. She could've worn sweats and a jersey for all the difference it made in the way he looked at her.

On the street, a gust of wind lifted her dark hair, swirling it around her shoulders. She pushed it irritably back, zipping her jacket as she moved decisively away from the club. They were supposed to catch up: he was going to tell her about the next kid he trained, she was going to tell him about learning homicide… the leads on her mother's murder that always fizzled out. Maybe they'd talk through Mom's case together one more time, preferably over breakfast. But no, tonight wasn't a starting point at all; just another no-where-street-dead-end.

Her breath came in little gasps, wanting to become a sob. She wouldn't give in. But, it wasn't Mike, at least, not all of it. It was the darkness, the struggle, searching for the way out. Never finding one.

 _No progress. All this time, all those late nights and nothing to show for it._ A single tear slid down one cheek before she wiped it away.

Royce, he was supposed to be there for her. It was months since she'd seen him and… _God,_ she needed to see him tonight, needed his wry humor, and most of all the way he seemed to _get_ her. He alone understood how badly she needed to solve Mom's murder, and why she could never let go. The wind gusted her hair across wet cheeks, anchoring it until she pushed it away.

Her brow furrowed slightly. Mike Royce was never happening; not for her.

The sobs were nearly silent, as they shook her frame with tiny tremors, her emotions threatening to overwhelm her. _I carried a candle too long. Time to move on._

Another dead-end, like mom's murder. Angrily, she dashed more tears away, ignoring the deep ache in her chest. Only Mike seemed to understand how the case ate at her, how she longed for the peace of truth and understanding. But, Mike was no longer her partner and she was drifting, alone, and anchorless. There had to be a lead, somewhere; something the investigators missed. She'd find it, somehow, she would, and… do it without Royce. And the dull, oppressive ache in her chest would ease….

She rounded the corner and was startled to find the street blocked off and the sidewalk crowded with vendors and dancers in brightly colored costumes of the Spanish Mexican style that was just rare enough to seem out of place, even in cosmopolitan New York. Lights and speakers were mounted above the heads of the crowd, and dancers swirled in the street, dark-haired women, their hair swept up revealing faces painted with darkly hollowed eyes even as their skirts swirled like bright islands in the street.

 _These street festivals are usually over by now…_ Kate's footsteps slowed, as she wandered through the crowded festival, her curiosity piqued by several flower-adorned altars. The theme of death was everywhere, but the accompanying joy was surprising. She observed a moment longer, noting the hearts and flowers adorning some of the foreheads, along with friendly, happy skull-makeup.

Kate tugged her zipper to the collar as her eyes meandered over the street merchants and booths. A teenager perched on a stool while an artist painted a heart in the center of her forehead. It was not just a flat, well-shaped heart, but had depth and seemed rounded, three-dimensional even. The dark shadows around the eyes were deep, reminiscent of a skull's empty sockets. Kate stepped nearer to watch.

"What are you painting?" she asked finally, "Or… why, rather?" She corrected herself as the artist paused to clean a brush.

"It is the _Dia de los Muertos,_ Day of the Dead," the older woman said. Her round cheeks were flushed with the cold, even under her bronze skin. She shot Kate a look, assessing her short skirt under her leather jacket and somber interest. "In Mexico, we create a sacred space, an altar with _ofrenda_ so our loved one knows we have not forgotten them. For my parents, I offer fresh tamales and for my _mija_ , Marisol, I find the loveliest daisies." She paused and dipped her brush in blue. "We tell the stories of our loved ones; not sad or depressing tales, but stories of joy to let them know we remember them for their lives, not their deaths."

"Hunh," she muttered. Kate's head tipped to one side as she listened, her eyes faraway. _Which do I honor with more dedication, Mom's life or death?_

The woman's kind brown eyes probed Kate's, who blinked, struggling to hide her confusion. Their gazes locked for a long moment and she felt an unexpected connection between them. The artist nodded slowly and turned back to her work.

"You must learn to live again, _Mija_." Then, as if all Kate's problems would be solved, she announced, "I will do you next. Call me, _Alegria,_ it is Spanish for _Joy_."

Kate surprised herself by agreeing. She watched the careful application of makeup for a time before asking, "How long ago did you lose your daughter?" Her voice was quiet, just loud enough to carry over the music and the laughter of the crowd.

"Three years, seven months and two days." She paused and looked at her work critically. Satisfied, _Alegria_ gave a decisive nod, and reached for a container of powder. "This will keep your makeup fresh all night." she told the girl. "Close your eyes." To Kate, _Alegria_ said, "I have bad days and good days, but it helps me to know that my Marisol is still with me, here." She tapped her heart meaningfully before dusting the girl's face with a white powder. "She knows." Her dark eyes met Kate's. "You know, too?"

Kate didn't, but nodded anyway. "Do you decorate the graves too?

"We decorate them and clean them up. Sometimes I plant daisies around Marisol's gravestone." She laid her brush down. "You are done!" _Alegria_ announced to the teenager who smiled gratefully and slipped the artist a twenty before scampering off into the crowd.

Kate took the seat immediately and the older woman smiled warmly at her. "You never keep the _Dia de los Muertos?"_

"No."

"Who is it you remember on the Day of the Dead?"

"My mom," Kate answered softly as the woman began applying makeup around Kate's eyes.

"And tell me about _su madrè_. What did she like?"

"She was a civil attorney and she loved to fight for the underdog." Her voice grew softer, "murder mysteries and roses." Kate began, haltingly at first, to tell story after story of how her mom stayed up late whenever her favorite author's new book was out, or making fudge when Kate was discouraged.

"Then there was the time the fudge never hardened and we had hot fudge sundaes instead. It was the best sundae I ever tasted," Kate confessed.

"I bet it was." _Alegria_ cleaned her brush carefully and then stared at Kate critically, assessing the makeup. "You are almost done. I do you subtle, not too much drama, you know?" She held a mirror up so Kate could see.

Kate peered into the mirror, glimpsing the changes to her face: the small gray tip of her nose, the fine lines around her mouth, denoting a skull's teeth. Kate's smoky eye makeup blended into green gold shadows reminiscent of eye sockets. The delicate lines on her forehead and cheeks gave her the definite impression of a skull, but with subtlety and romance.

 _This is my true face,_ she thought, staring. _Death changed me. I walk with it every day._ Kate reached up, wanting to trace a swirling line across her cheek. She didn't. _I am a homicide detective and I struggle against death daily, except for tonight. Tonight, I celebrate life, the life of my mom and the victims I serve. Tonight, I embrace life in a new way._

"You are an _artist,_ " Kate breathed.

"Thank you," said the woman as she dusted a protective coating over her face, "When you go home, you set up a little altar, see? A little table or shelf. Decorate it with your _mamà's_ favorite tablecloth and a photo of you together. Make her fudge and set her favorite book on the altar, see? It is _ofrenda_ , and she will love it because you are celebrating her life, not drowning in your grief." _Alegria_ set her brush down and squeezed Kate's shoulders. "Tomorrow, you go to her grave and pull any weeds, and wash the dirt off her stone and bring her beautiful roses.

"But!" She grabbed Kate's chin before she could move, tilting her face to look into hers. "No sadness! The Day of the Dead is for celebrating her life and not grieving for her loss. _Sì? Su madrè_ lives on, she is with you still."

A smile spread over Kate's face.

"You see yourself now? You are a _dama!_ Ready to enjoy the festival!"

Kate laughed. "I am! Thank you!"

After paying _Alegria_ , and promising to return the following year, she wandered through the booths, the spirit of the festival lifting her, and carrying her with it. Mentally, she compiled a shopping list. She chose decorations for the altar she would create at home: a white candle, roses, a red-crocheted shawl like her mom sometimes wore. Mexican marigolds were everywhere and Kate bought several for the altar. The makings for fudge were easy to find in a neighborhood grocery, along with an oversized shoulder bag to carry it all. Kate meandered away from the festival, in search of the final item for her _ofrenda_. Sleuth, a favorite mystery bookstore, closed last year, forcing Kate to veer out of her way to find a bookstore. She ducked inside, scanning the genre signs to lead her to what she sought. She found it easily, but a knot of people blocked the shelf by Mom's favorite author. The guests all seemed to be clutching the same shiny hardcover.

Richard Castle's newest book, she realized, glimpsing a display. _Mom would be here too, if…_ Her throat tightened and she turned away, preferring one of the older titles Mom had enjoyed over and over. She scanned what was visible on the desired shelf. _In a Hail of Bullets,_ would work, but a Derrick Storm novel would be better. The man blocking the shelf shifted his weight to one side, allowing her to see several titles just beyond his elbow. _Storm's Last Stand_ … _Perfect._

She sidled closer, bending slightly to reach behind the gentleman telling a story, gesturing as he did. He lifted his arms, giving her an opening. She went for it, grasping the novel tightly. She tugged it from the shelf just as the man's elbow connected with her cheekbone, hard.

 _"_ _Ow!"_ The book tumbled to the carpet and she backed away, holding her eye. _Oow, ow ow…._ She grimaced and gritted her teeth.

"Oh my gosh! I am so sorry!" The man who'd elbowed her broke away from the group. "Are you all right?"

 _No!_ Kate wanted to snap but disciplined herself to answer with a modicum of courtesy. "I'll be fine." She kept one hand cupped over the offended eye, trying not smudge her makeup.

"Let me see," her attacker insisted.

"Really, I'm f—" Kate's voice trailed off as she glimpsed his face. _He's familiar._ She blinked at him. _Who is this guy?_

His brow was furrowed over warm gray-blue eyes and he caught the tip of her chin lightly in one hand. A jolt of electricity shot through her and she suddenly didn't mind the touch. His eyes widened too and he held her gaze a little too long.

"Let me see," he said again, softly.

Suddenly much too warm, she let her hand fall to her side.

"Oh my God," he breathed.

"What?"

"I gave you _two_ black eyes."

She gave him a look. He gave her an impish one back.

"Seriously, it doesn't look bad," his hand dropped to his side, "but it might get puffy. Let's get you some ice so you don't have a _genuine_ black eye, in addition to the two you paid for." He quirked an eyebrow and released her, bending to retrieve the books she'd dropped. " _In a Hail of Bullets,_ " he read the title and smiled. "It's not a bad read considering I was a freshman in college when I wrote it." He handed it back to her.

Confused, she stared at the books in her hands. She started to hand _In a Hail of Bullets_ back. _"Storms Last Stand_ is the one I…." She blinked at him then back at the photo on the book jacket. "Oh—You're _Richard Castle!"_

"Call me Rick." He offered his hand, and she took it without thinking. "I was just finishing a signing when you collided with my elbow." He shrugged apologetically. "Sorry about that."

"No, it's okay," she said feeling slightly dazed and overly warm despite the evening's chill. She stared, trying to think of something to say. Her cheek ached, just below her eye. She was a little distracted by his smile, and the way his jeans showed off his behind as he turned to wave off the last of his fans.

"You must have attended the festival down the street," he said, turning back to her.

"Yes, I… got this done there," she gestured to her makeup, "and was picking up a few things for… the evening." Her words tumbled to a halt as she tucked an errant strand of hair behind an ear. Her cheeks felt hot.

"Exciting plans?" he probed.

"Uh," she thought briefly of the _ofrenda_. _It can wait._ She shook her head.

"Good!" he grinned. "Let's get you an ice pack, and maybe I can buy you a drink. It's the least I can do after giving you two black eyes." He quirked a brow at her again.

"Maybe…" She hesitated.

Richard Castle smiled at her, revealing dimples and the lines around his eyes crinkled attractively.

Her face felt abnormally warm as she mentally shoved Royce into a corner of her mind labeled _never-gonna-happen._ "I'd love that," she smiled back.

* * *

 _A big thank you to Teresa for the suggestion to use the Day of the Dead. It added so much!_

 _Feel free to leave a review._


	6. Homecoming

**_July 16, 2017_**

This is the week! Expect new chapters very soon!

* * *

 ** _April 15, 2017_**

 _The end is, by far, the most difficult to get right. Yes, it was 'done' but I'm taking the time to make it better before continuing. I am now revising Chapter Twelve. Thirteen and 14 are, naturally, the most difficult because they are the final resolution in a difficult story-line._

 _The story absolutely has to be finished no later than July 30th, because I start grad school in August. Working full time and going to school full-time. There will be no time for fanfiction then. You can count on it being complete soon, although not as soon as you'd like it to be._

 _Happy Easter to those celebrating this weekend!_

 _Bren Williams_

* * *

 _This chapter is dedicated to the memory of my Dad. He's been gone for over half my life now, but his gentle fingerprints remain in my life, always_.

 _Readers are welcome to follow me in my public **facebook group, Bren Williams Readers Forum** or on **Twitter**. ( **at Bren_Williams** ) I always respond to **PM** s on Fanfiction dot net as well._

 _As you read, kindly bear in mind that this story is_ _far out in the_ alternative universe _, more so than most, but that's part of the fun! Reviews are always appreciated, but most of all, just enjoy the ride._

* * *

SITTING IN A TREE, BACKWARDS

Part III

* * *

 _ **Homecoming**_

 _ **CHAPTER SIX**_

 ** _November 2, 2003_**

It was still dark when the alarm on an unfamiliar ringtone awakened them.

Kate blinked into the darkness, disoriented. Someone rolled away from her, fumbling with something. The alarm off, he rose and moved away. The bathroom light flicked on, and a door closed, leaving Kate in darkness again.

She rubbed her face, and grimaced as she rediscovered the makeup from the night before. All the tender and painful details came crashing back to her. Mike Royce's heartbreaking obliviousness, the artist at the _Dia de los Muertos_ festival, and… Richard Castle.

The shower came on and she relaxed back into the pillows, her thoughts lingering on the night before, focusing on their quiet conversation, the dancing, margaritas… the sex… She smiled contentedly and burrowed deeper under the covers. Today, she had a new perspective on living with death, _and_ the benefit of being well and thoroughly satisfied.

 _Shall I slip away now while he's in the shower?_ She gave an enormous yawn.

 _Yes, I'll dress and go… before…._ She drifted off. On some level, she was aware of him moving about the room, shaving, dressing, and packing. She dozed until the mattress shifted from his weight.

"Katherine?"

She rolled to her side, to blink groggily up at him, wondering why he called her by her full name.

"I'm leaving. Sleep as long as you like. Order breakfast, my treat. The room is yours until eleven."

"Thanks," she mumbled, pushing tangled hair back from her face and blinking up at him.

"And…" He slid the hardcopy of _Kissed and Killed_ toward her. "I really have signed this to you now." He grinned.

She accepted it with a tiny smile. "You didn't have to." It grew exponentially larger. "But, thank you."

He nodded and there was an awkward moment where neither spoke. Smiling, he rose and hefted a travel bag, arranging the strap to lie comfortably over his shoulder. His mouth hung open as though he might say more. Finally, he faced her again. "My signing tour for six weeks," He finally said, sounding conciliatory, he shifted his weight from one leg to another "and then there's the holidays…."

"Mr. Castle." She sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees. The sheet barely covered her, but she didn't care. "This was a fun night, I've no regrets. Thank you."

He nodded. "It was my pleasure." He adjusted the carry-on strap over his shoulder. "Get some sleep." A half-smile curled the corner of his mouth. "You've got dark circles around your eyes."

Imagining the inevitable smudging of her Day of the Dead makeup, she groaned. "Just don't tell me I look like a _raccoon."_

He grinned. "I was thinking along the lines of a _panda."_

She tossed a pillow at him, and he caught it, still grinning. "As much as I'd like to stick around to see what you look like under all that," he shrugged, "I have a plane to catch." He dropped it back onto the bed.

"Bye," she whispered.

He seemed not to hear as he headed toward the door. "I made coffee," he said over his shoulder. "Help yourself."

She waited till the door closed behind him to snap on the light and read the inscription he'd made on the title page of the book.

 **Kissed & Killed**

 _To Katherine,_

 _Thanks for a memorable night._

 _Rick_

 ** _Richard Castle._**

"Hunh."

 _Kind of an impersonal message to write after…._ Kate stared at the page thoughtfully, then shrugged and snapped the book closed. _Whatever. It was just one night._ She set it on the bedside table. Smiling, she lay back on the silken sheets, stretching vigorously. Last night didn't go at all how she'd hoped but somehow, it was just what she'd needed.

* * *

 ** _January 2004_**

"Hey," Kate said to the new legal assistant seated in the reception area. _Patricia,_ the name plate read, and Kate sized her up, gathering information in a way that was now second nature after 3 years on the force. The assistant was middle age with a tough as nails look to her. Kate liked what she saw.

"Hi, I'm Kate Beckett…" she paused, noting the spark of recognition. "Jim's my dad."

"Oh yes." she gave Kate a guarded smile. "He mentioned he has a daughter, but he didn't say you'd be in." The glance she gave Kate was almost probing.

 _Nosy,_ Kate decided. "Yeah, well, I was supposed to meet him for dinner and I… wanted to walk over with him."

Patricia gave her a knowing look. "Honey, I understand _completely."_

 _What's that supposed to mean?_ Kate frowned.

"Go right in, he's finishing up." She rose, unlocking a file drawer to remove an oversized purse and sneakers. Her head disappeared below her desk as she switched out dress pumps for a walking shoe. "I'm sure he'll be anxious to leave." She gestured toward the office door.

Kate knocked lightly on the door frame as she peered inside.

Elbows propped on his desk, Jim's face was buried in his shaking hands.

 _Is he… he isn't drunk already?_ Kate glanced around and hurried inside, shutting the door.

"Dad, what's wrong?"

"Katie?" He looked up for the first time and she was relieved to see his face was dry, though flushed.

"You look like hell," she said.

"I feel like hell."

She noted the tremors in his hands and the gray, pallid complexion. "How long has it been?" she asked quietly.

"What the hell do you mean by that?" He scowled at her as he yanked his briefcase from under his desk, set it on top, and began shoving files inside.

Kate's mouth pulled to one-side as she considered him. "Nothing."

"Why are you here anyway?"

"I'm walking walk over with you."

"Why?" he demanded, slamming the briefcase shut.

She pressed her lips together and folded her arms. "You know why." Her voice was quiet.

Jim swore underneath his breath and reached for his coat, pulling it on. Blotchy stains dotted the expensive overcoat.

He didn't speak as he locked the office door, pulling it shut behind them. They were silent on the walk to the elevator. He finally spoke once they were safely away from coworkers' prying eyes and ears. "Two days. I always think it's going to be easy, that it's just a matter of self-control, but…." He shook his head, his mouth a grim line.

She didn't need to look at him directly to know that his jaw was clenched, or that he shook. "I know, Dad," she sighed.

On the street, she turned toward the agreed upon restaurant, but found him rooted to the sidewalk, staring at a fixed point over her shoulder while pedestrians flowed passed on either side. She stepped closer, allowing foot traffic by, glancing back to see what he stared at. Jacob's Lounge.

"Not that way, Katie. Let's go around the block."

"Let's," she agreed, falling into step with him.

"Who's going to be there?" he finally asked.

"What?" she looked at him, confused.

"For dinner. Who's meeting us this time? Aunt Terri? Uncle Andrew? Some doctor or shrink who's supposed to help me screw my head on straight?" His tone was bitter and cold.

"No one is meeting us." She kept her voice calm.

"Because I don't need the help, I can handle this."

 _Yeah, right._ Aloud, she said, "This isn't an intervention, Dad. No one is meeting us." She stared straight ahead. "I want to talk to you, _sober."_ His eyes probed her face and she sighed. "This isn't about your drinking."

 _"_ _My drinking!"_ he hissed under his breath. "That's all you ever want to talk about."

Kate's head snapped up and she glared at him, her brow furrowed. "This is _not_ about you, Dad." The light turned green and they joined the masses of New Yorkers crossing the busy street.

Neither spoke until they passed another lounge. He changed directions.

"Dad?" She grabbed his arm. "Don't go in there. Please, I need to talk to you." She tugged on his arm and irritably he pulled away.

"I just want one drink to stop this damn shaking. I'll only be a minute."

" _No,_ Dad! Please!" They were just outside the door and Kate maneuvered him to one side to allow clientele to pass.

 _"_ _Katherine Houghton Beckett,_ I'm just having _one_ drink and then—"

"Dad," She took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant."

He froze, his mouth partway open, gaping at her. _"What?"_

"I'm pregnant, a… a baby."

Dumbfounded, he blinked. "You're…." He gaped, not speaking. His eyes were huge. "I…." Kate reached out and took his hand. "Come with me." She tried to guide him away but he resisted, his hand sliding from hers.

Slowly, he turned back toward the lounge. "I need a drink."

"Dad! No!" She took a step nearer. "Listen to me, you're _always_ drinking. You can't even meet me at an alcohol-free restaurant without stopping at a bar for _fortification_."

"I… I need a drink and then… I'll be right over." He stepped around her, moving toward the glossy doors.

She moved with him, staying between him and the entrance. "I don't know how I'm going to do this yet, but I need you to be there for me, _sober._ If you can't do that for yourself, then do it for me, or your _grandchild."_ Her throat tightened and her eyes stung with tears. "If that's not enough, then… do it for _Mom."_ Her heart pounded in her chest and her throat ached.

He stared at the entrance, his voice hardened. "Just one drink, I promise. Then, I'll be right over."

"Please, Daddy," her voice was a ragged whisper. "I'm doing this _alone."_ She drew in a shuddering breath. Her fists were clenched in the wool of his coat but he pulled away. "Fine." She glared at him, her voice shaking. "I will be there for _thirty_ minutes! Then, I'm leaving." She released him and moved away, wiping tears from her cheeks.

* * *

Kate slid lower in the booth, idly stabbing the ice cubes in her water with a straw, her face pensive and drawn and with an ache around her heart. _This sucks. Can't count on Dad for anything. If Mom were here…_ _she'd help me plan, shop. Dad wouldn't be an alcoholic…._ Her frown deepened. Her shoulders were rounded and she barely looked up when the waiter placed two platters of burgers and fries on the table in front of her.

"Your friend isn't coming?" he asked.

"Apparently not." Kate made no move to touch her food. _Guess I'm on my own._

"His loss." The waiter lingered, probably hoping for encouragement.

"Yeah, thanks," she finally answered, nipping off the end of a French fry. She did not look up.

He moved away.

She dropped the fry back onto the plate, staring at the food. _How can I manage daycare for an infant_ and _rent on a cop's salary?_ Half-heartedly, she scooped up half a burger and took a bite, more out of survival instinct than desire. _There's Richard Castle; he might want to know if he has a baby out there._ She chewed slowly. _I could reach him through his publisher._ She made a face. _I can see the headlines when the story breaks. 'Richard Castle expecting baby with rooky homicide detective, girlfriend publisher stands by.'_ She scowled and shook her head. _God! That is so not happening!_

She swallowed and took another bite, barely aware of its flavor. _I could take a roommate, but who the hell wants a roommate with a baby?_ She heaved a big sigh and set her burger down again. Wiping the grease off her fingers with a napkin, she cradled her belly with one hand, thinking of the tiny life growing within her. _Looks like it's just you and me for now, my_ Alegria, _my Joy._ She pondered in silence, absently stroking her abdomen with a thumb. _We'll figure somethin—_

"Katie."

She looked up, her mouth falling open to find him standing next to her table. "Dad!" She rose slowly, uncertainly, scanning his face, his speech, his scent for signs of booze. A moment they stared at each other.

"I'm sorry, Katie, for letting you down."

 _Dad!_ Her eyes prickled as she threw her arms around him.

He grabbed her, holding her close. His coat smelled of stale cigarettes and old beer, like a bar, but his breath was as fresh as ever. "Sweetheart, I am so sorry."

"You're here now," she whispered, her tears soaking his coat. "That's what counts."

She was smiling when she pulled away, her cheeks still wet. Jim solemnly wiped them away with his thumb. "I'm sorry. I keep trying to do this, and I get angry at myself when I _can't."_

She nodded and whispered, "I know." She gestured for him to join her.

He sat, but barely looked at the food. "I went in the bar and I… ordered a double bourbon, but the whole time, all I could think was that you are having a baby." He looked away, blinking rapidly. He turned back to her with a fierce expression. "I've been a _miserable_ excuse for a father—"

Kate paused, licking her lips before opening her mouth to speak. _Don't interrupt._ She ate a fry instead, barely tasting it.

"—and I sent you off alone." he choked.

A French fry froze on its way to her mouth, as her face tightened. _This has nothing to do with the kind of father you are,_ she wanted to say, but couldn't speak. She'd waited too long for this.

"You were right, Katie." He looked far beyond his age as he stared at the space above Kate's head in silence.

She waited, not daring to speak or even move.

Finally, he nodded and met her gaze. "I _am_ an alcoholic."

Her eyes drifted closed, and the French fry tumbled, forgotten, onto the table. Her fist convulsed around her napkin, wadding it into a tiny ball as a tear slid down her cheek.

He continued in a voice both grave and remorseful. "I keep trying to dry out but…" he shook his head.

"You don't have to do this alone." She dropped the ball onto the table, and offered her hand.

He clasped it, cradling it in both of his. His sad eyes back to her. " _You_ don't have to do it alone either."

"I—" her mouth fell open and she swallowed. "I… know that."

"Do you?"

"Dad—" Her voice was tiny, lost in the tightness of her throat.

He took a deep breath. "Let's make a deal, Katie. I'll do this for _you_ today," he hesitated, and then gestured toward her abdomen, "you and that little someone inside you. I'll go into rehab, but you let me help you when I get out. We'll do this together."

Her voice was very small. "Thankyou."

He smiled but it was gone in a moment. He swallowed. "I need to do this," he whispered. Giving her hand one last squeeze, he released it and collapsed against the back of his chair. He turned back to her one more time. "I don't know what you're going to find at the apartment. It's a disaster, Katie."

"I'll take care of it. You… go."

He nodded and surveyed the now cold food, congealing on its platter. "After we eat, I'll go talk to them." He agreed quietly. Picking up his hamburger, he took a large bite. "Now, tell me about the baby."

* * *

 ** _Two Months later…._**

Kate rose from the table to clear the plates away. Jim, smiling and belly full, leaned back to find two dark eyes staring up at him. He patted his lap and the small dog needed no further invitation. Colby's pink tongue licked Jim's chin before he could turn away, his face breaking into a smile. He rubbed Colby's ears, scratching her shoulders. The dog thrust her nose under Jim's arm, leaning against his chest, groaning as she made herself comfortable.

Kate smiled seeing them. "She missed you. She got walked twice a day but there's no substitute for _Dad_."

Jim returned her smile. "I suppose not. Thank you for keeping her for me. It's been months."

She cut him off. "I was happy to do it. You know that."

"I… do." He agreed as Kate took a dark bottle from the refrigerator. She set two champagne flutes on the table and presented the bottle for Jim's inspection.

"Martinelli's Sparkling Apple Cider." He smiled ruefully.

"Yeah, well," she shrugged whimsically, "neither of us needs the other kind just now."

"No, I imagine we don't." His eyes followed her progress as she fished a bottle opener out of a drawer, setting it on the table. "How many weeks?"

"Twenty-one." She took her seat again as Jim shooed the dog away and pulled back up to the table.

"Any morning sickness?"

"Not since January. I feel good. I'm eating right, getting healthier. I can request desk duty whenever I need it, not looking forward to that, but…." She gave a one-shouldered shrug. "The doctor says everything looks good." She peeled the golden foil off the bottle's neck.

She prattled on for a time, filling him in on news while filling their glasses. They shared a smile as they tapped them together and drank.

Jim set his empty flute back on the table, pushing it around with the tip of his finger. Finally, he turned to her. "Tell me about _Hannah Joy,"_ he said, taking her hand.

"What do you want to know?" She finished the last of her cider and moved to refill their goblets, emptying the bottle.

"Her father?"

She met his eyes briefly before glancing away. "Out of the picture," she answered finally.

Jim nodded slowly. "Do… we need to file a paternity suit?"

She chuckled. "That won't be necessary."

Jim stared at her as she watched the foamy cider swirling in her glass. "Does he know?"

She didn't answer at first. "Not yet," she said finally.

Colby groaned from his bed in the living room, rolling back and forth with his feet in the air, grumbling as he did. Neither glanced her way.

"In a way, I feel incredibly selfish. I want to keep this baby to myself, at least for a while." She turned toward her dad, hoping he'd understand. "It feels like a second chance with Mom."

"It's a new beginning, he agreed, "but having Hannah Joy's father involved won't change that. And a girl needs her daddy." The lines around his eyes crinkled up.

Kate grinned. "True." She pushed an errant strand of hair behind one ear. "Hannah is part of my healing, Dad."

He nodded. "That's true for both of us."

She leaned toward him, her brow furrowed. She spoke slowly, her voice low. "I don't really want to bring Hannah's father into this right now."

The lines on his brow deepened. "Is that fair to him _or_ Hannah?"

"Probably not." She grimaced, staring at the flowers, carefully arranged in the middle of the small table. She sighed and downed the rest of her cider. "I'll tell him… _eventually_."

Jim gave a sudden, wicked grin. "Unless he's some _cloves-smoking grifter,_ in which case, it's better to leave him _out."_

He caught her eye and they shared a smile.

 _"_ _No._ Six months of _Jesse Sturgis_ was enough." She chuckled even as she shook her head emphatically. "Never again."

They fell into a companionable silence, each nursing their remaining goblet of silence until Jim pushed away from the table to stretch his legs. "What are you planning?" he asked.

She answered easily. "I'll keep working. I'm looking into childcare, but it's a trick to find a good situation for infants." She shrugged and fidgeted with the hem of the tablecloth, the one Mom always saved for special occasions. "I'll move, probably a one bedroom that I can manage without a roommate. It won't be ideal."

"It never is." Jim rubbed his chin. "When you were born, your first bedroom was our closet. It worked out surprisingly well, however." He smiled in memory. The smile faded as his expression turned serious. "Look, Katie, a baby is…" he shook his head, "a lot of responsibility for _two_ parents. To be doing this alone is… _difficult."_

Kate watched him, her hands finally still.

His voice was low and emphatic as he leaned toward her. "Move home."

"Dad…." she straightened in her seat as she turned toward him. "I don't need help. I can _do_ this," she insisted.

"I'm not saying you can't. Just think about it. You'd be closer to work. You'd have to share a room with the baby, but you would be anyway, and maybe you'd be able to save a down payment for a place of your own."

Kate's mouth was a stubborn line.

Jim shook his head, seeing it. "Look at you; determined to do this _your_ way no matter what." He shook his head. "Your mother would tell you, 'Save yourself a lot of grief and let us help you. You'd just end up hearing those words you hate more than any other, _I told you so.'_ "

Kate gave a desperate laugh and looked away, but her eyes stung with tears. She squared her shoulders, but Jim went on before she could reply.

"This isn't just about you anymore, Katie. Live-in-grandparents are an asset to a child."

Kate gave a delicate snort. "Depending on the degree of functionality," she muttered.

"True, but regardless of whether you move home or not, this is _my_ _grandchild_. You and that baby are _all_ I have." The words were soft.

Kate nodded somberly.

His voice grew softer, slower as he confided, "I've been seeing a grief counselor, Katie. You were right. I should've gone years ago. But, I didn't want to accept that Mom could be taken from us in such an ugly, brutal way. I fought it, I refused to accept it. And I didn't want to admit that I'm not strong enough to handle it alone." He fell silent, brushing at the tablecloth, the grief and despair deepening the lines of his face.

"You don't—"

"Shh," he whispered, raising his hand to silence her. "Let me finish." He drew several deep breaths before speaking again. "I thought I was honoring her memory, keeping her alive somehow by holding on to her. Probably much the same way that you've struggled to solve her murder." His gaze found hers.

"You don't owe her a closed case, Katie. This isn't your fault."

"I…"

"I learned something in rehab that changed everything. _Suffering is pain without acceptance._ We've been suffering, Katie. Suffering that's gone on and on because we've refused to accept something that continues to hurt us, but we can't change what happened. And this fight? It's like punching a brick wall. Pretty soon you have skinned knuckles and fractured bones." The ticking of the kitchen clock filled the silence until he continued.

"It's time both of us learned to live _with_ the pain, and accept that it's always going to be there." His voice lowered to a whisper. "Because it's not going away."

"Dad," she gave a choked sob, covering her mouth.

"I know, Katie." There was a dull scrape as he rose, reaching down to pull her into his arms. He held her tightly against him as her shoulders shook.

"I haven't been there for you the last several years, and I can never make that up to you. But this is a new beginning for both of us." He bowed his head, whispering into her ear, "And I'm here for you _now._ "

* * *

 _It will take a bit longer to post C **hapter Seven**. It's kind of an important one, since it gets back to Castle  & Beckett's mess in 2011, and it still needs work. Gotta get it right!_

 **Please leave a review.**


	7. Secret Identity

**_July 17, 2017_**

 _Champagne and Sparkling Cider are chilling in my fridge, awaiting the posting of Chapter 14, somewhere between now and July 31st! Can't wait!_

 _As you read, kindly bear in mind that this story is_ _far out in the_ alternative universe _, more so than most, but that's part of the fun! Reviews are always appreciated, but most of all, just enjoy the ride._

* * *

SITTING IN A TREE, BACKWARDS

Part III

* * *

 _ **Secret Identity**_

 _ **CHAPTER SEVEN**_

* * *

Rick stood in the middle of his loft, staring at the door Kate had closed behind her. His jaw worked as he struggled with his emotions. Exhaustion didn't help. He swallowed and bowed his head. Maybe it was selfish, petty of him to react as he did, especially in light of his own daughter asleep upstairs, but— _Hell! This isn't the same at all! Kate knew about Alexis all along, plus, she's on the verge of adulthood! No raising required! No braces, no shots, no… parent teacher conferences or midnight feedings…._

A hot ache filled his chest as he dropped back onto the sofa, head in his hands, overwhelmed with confusion, disappointment, and anger. _Assuming she doesn't divorce me over my reaction. Why didn't she tell me years ago... or at least before the wedding?_

 _I thought she trusted me._

He left their tumblers on the coffee table and wandered into the office, awakening his laptop with the touch of a finger. He stared at the login screen without seeing it. _Why hide Hannah from her fiancé? Why the deception? Did she think I'd back out if I knew?_ He shook his head and prowled back to his bedroom. The covers lay in disarray from rising in the middle of the night. He glanced at a clock and grimaced. Alexis and Mother would be down in just two hours and….

He couldn't face them, couldn't face anyone. His head swam with the overwhelming weight of Kate's story, anger, exhaustion, and self-recriminations. Not to mention his own. He fell into his bed and slept.

* * *

The night had grown substantially colder. She'd left her scarf at Rick's and the respite from the cold motorcycle-ride back into the City somehow made this ride exponentially worse. She played and replayed the conversation in her head.

 _The product of you and some other guy._

Her Harley glided to a stop at a light, and one booted foot touched balanced it against the pavement. _No, Rick!_ she wanted to shout at him. _She's yours! I should have told you…._ She closed her eyes, overwhelmed. _Why didn't I?_ Tears slid over her icy cheeks. _I love him._ Never had she guessed how much, never suspected… _If I lose him because of this… if he can't forgive me.…_

She'd be devastated.

Numb, she stared at the stop light without seeing it. _If only I told him years ago. Better yet, found him and told him about Hannah Joy_ before _she was born. Things would be so different now._ Years of what-might-have-been flitted in and out of her conscious thoughts. Gina and Rick lingered. _Would I have been the second wife instead of the third? The second and last, or would we have spun out of control, shriveling like him and Gina?_

She scowled. _Stop with the 'what ifs'. I can't change the past, only the here and now_.

If only the here and now weren't so bleak. There was a hot ache in her chest and she gave a choking gasp, hot tears rolling down her cheeks beneath the visor of her helmet.

 _I thought I was okay with the risks._

 _"The product of you and some other guy,"_ he'd said, his voice deathly quiet.

 _I should have told him, right then, and let him meet Hannah, knowing he's her father. At least then, he'd understand why I… kept so many secrets._

 _Fuck._

All the blood seemed to drain out of her, taking with it her hope, her joy.

A horn blared directly behind her. Her eyes startled open. The light had changed. Shaken, she gunned the engine, steering toward home, holding herself at hyper-alert, she struggled to keep her mind off Rick, not to allow herself to soften to the drowsiness barely held at bay. Her thoughts shifted constantly, attacking the fight with Castle from every angle.

 _I knew he'd be angry_ , _but that Rick would not accept Hannah never crossed my mind._ The temptation to fling Hannah's paternity in his face came and went. They had to go through this one step at a time. Let Castle have time to get used to the idea of her daughter, then they'd meet. Then… she'd tell him the rest.

Arriving home, she dropped her bag beside the door and barely secured the locks before staggering onto her living room sofa. She tugged an afghan over her, and fell into a deep sleep, forgetting even to set an alarm.

Kate did not stir until the phone pinged with a text at 9:18 the next morning.

 _Yo, Beckett, you gonna tear yourself away from Castle and come in?_

She groaned. It was Esposito. She'd been so wrapped up in her drama with Rick that…. She stumbled to her feet, struggling to shake the cobwebs off. _No, I can't wimp out, not today. I've a job to do._

 _Give me an hour_ , she texted back.

She rolled to her feet, thinking wistfully of calling in sick. Instead, she staggered slightly, groaned, and headed to the bedroom for a change of clothes. Twenty minutes later, still feeling like roadkill, she yanked her hair into a ponytail, and grabbed a granola bar. Thinking longingly of Rick's coffee, she rushed out the door.

Esposito and Ryan had looked forward to her return, that much was obvious. She saw the mischief in their eyes, knew they'd anticipated harassing her about being late, about, being newlyweds, and Castle. Their grins died the second they saw her face.

"Bring me up to speed," she said by way of greeting. Her voice felt grim, even to her.

They exchanged a look and filled her in on the status quo.

"Oh, and Boss wants to see you," Espo said, swiveling back to take a call. "As soon as you're up to speed."

She frowned, staring at Montgomery through the plate glass window between them. "Did he say what it's about?"

"Nope."

She'd hoped for a fresh murder, then felt ashamed of her selfishness. She just wanted an excuse to call _him_ , to tempt him out to the precinct, or a crime scene, with a coffee in either hand where they effortlessly bounced ideas off each other; just working, no personal drama. But, there was no such reunion. The boys had handled several investigations, and were following up on cold cases in the absence of a warm one. _We need space anyway._ Then again, Kate jumped into her work instead, as she always did, with both feet, immersing herself.

"You look like hell, Detective," said Captain Montgomery as Kate entered his office.

"Yeah, well, I'm running on about two hours of sleep."

Montgomery took a step back, and gave her a probing look. Kate did her best to ignore it.

"You wanted to see me?" she asked.

There was a long pause before he answered. "You don't look like a woman who just returned from a two week honeymoon."

She pressed her lips together and said nothing.

"What happened?"

Her frown deepened, and she shifted uneasily. "We had a fight, Sir. It won't affect my work."

"Your work." Montgomery shook his head. "Do you think that's all I care about?"

Kate hesitated. "Sir?"

His forehead was lined with concern. "What happened?"

The corner of her mouth pulled down. She sighed and turned to stare out the window. "I… finally told Castle about Hannah, and… he didn't take it well."

Montgomery didn't speak but folded his arms, leaning against his desk. "When was this?"

Her voice sounded hollow. "Last night."

 _"Last ni-"_ He straightened, gesturing with a report in his hand. He took a step toward her. "You waited until _after_ the honeymoon?" The whites of his eyes stood out starkly against his brown skin.

Her eyes flicked to his. Giving him a bare nod, they dropped to the floor again, as she summarized last night's conversation for him. "Obviously, he's upset," she finished.

"All right, Beckett. I told you not to keep your work family in the dark about Hannah, but the fat's in the fire now. Go home, sleep, and get your shit together."

"But, Sir—"

"There's nothing but cold cases here, Beckett, and I gotta to watch the personnel hours. So rest up, have makeup… _whatever,_ and be back tomorrow. A body's gonna drop soon and I need your head in the game."

She turned to leave, but he called her back. "I've seen the way he looks at you, the way he always has your back. He deserves better than all this _deception_. Think long and carefully about what you want from him, what kind of a _marriage_ you want, cuz you've already given him grounds for divorce." He tapped a stack of folders on his desk to straighten them. "Now get out of here."

* * *

It was nearly noon when Rick finally left his bedroom, showered and dressed, but still feeling confused and angry. He found his mother and daughter in the kitchen, Alexis chopping leftover chicken breast, and Martha drinking a martini.

"Oh, Richard! I'm glad you're up, finally. Is Katherine here? I have something to tell you all, and it would be nice if she were here, too."

"Uh," Rick paused, scanning the room in confusion. "I'm not sure what her plans are after work and…. _Alexis?_ Aren't you supposed to be in _school?"_

"It's President's Day," she reminded him. "Which is perfect because I only _just_ finished my project this morning." She dumped the chicken she'd been cutting into bite sized pieces into a bowl and ducked behind the fridge door.

Martha lifted her glass in his direction. "Clearly, she inherited your talent for procrastination."

Rick nodded and slumped over to the coffee pot, pouring himself a cup. He leaned into the counter, staring moodily, not noticing his mother's concerned gaze.

"Richard?" she set her martini on the counter and approached him. "What's going on?"

Alexis, hands full of romaine lettuce, slammed the fridge door, watching.

"Nothing," he sipped his coffee without meeting either's eye.

Alexis and Martha exchanged a look.

"What's wrong, Dad? That coffee's been sitting around all morning, and you didn't even notice." She dropped the lettuce next to the sink to give her father her best _I-know-what's-good-for-you_ ,- _so-you'd-better-start-talking_ look _._

Rick ignored it. "Nothing's wrong." He took another swig of coffee, grimaced, and dumped it into the sink. He reached for the lettuce. "Kate and I had an argument, that's all."

Alexis set about making a new pot of coffee while Martha settled on the stool opposite the sink and waited for him to continue.

His brow furrowed, and finally he sighed. "Kate has a daughter."

 _"Whaaaat?"_ Alexis's long hair whipped around her shoulders as she spun toward him, mouth agape.

Martha carefully set her martini on the counter, inspecting her son's impassive face.

"How old?" Alexis asked.

"First grade, I think."

Martha didn't hesitate. "And this is the first you knew of her?" she asked softly.

Rick nodded, snapping lettuce leaves off the head, running them under the water. "She's been back and forth with Jim forever, but she's been with him full-time for a couple years."

Martha nodded thoughtfully while Alexis exclaimed, "How could Kate not tell you before you got married? That's kind of important."

"You think?" he snapped. Then he sighed. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I'm not angry with you, I just—" He stared into space, leaving the water running.

"It's fine, Dad. I understand." Alexis turned off the water.

"When do we meet her?" Martha asked, breaking into his thoughts.

He shrugged and shook the lettuce vigorously, sending droplets everywhere.

"Did Katherine say who the girl's father is?" Martha asked as Alexis slid a cutting mat and knife in front of him.

"Thanks," he muttered to Alexis as he arranged the greens on the mat. "Whoever he was, it doesn't sound as though he was present for more than the necessary." He picked up the knife.

Martha nodded again. "Luckily, you've always liked kids." She looked up to find four gray eyes staring at her. "What?"

"Don't you think that's kind of an odd thing to wait until after the wedding to share?" he demanded.

"Well, of course—"

The knife thumped rhythmically through the damp leaves as Rick's voice rose. "She made sure I wanted kids, but didn't bother mentioning I'd be a stepdad to the one she already has!"

"Well, the marriage _did_ happen extremely fast…" Martha mused.

"There's no excuse for keeping that kind of thing secret!" Alexis interrupted.

"Oh, I don't disagree, Darling. I'm just wondering if there's more to the story."

"There always is." He frowned. "I just wish…" He viciously hacked at the lettuce, scowling.

"You've every right to be upset, Dad," Alexis soothed.

Martha waved a hand. "Upset or not, Richard, your first consideration is your marriage and _her_ first consideration is her daughter. What it comes down to is this, _is it a deal killer?"_

Rick's scowl deepened as he hacked away.

"Richard, you have a daughter, she has a daughter… is it really that different?"

"Why, yes, Mother, it _is."_ Still holding the knife, he gestured emphatically, "Kate knew of Alexis from the beginning, no secrets."

"Dad," Alexis tried to break in, staring at the knife in his hand.

Rick didn't notice as he gestured with it again. "Also, she'll be 18 next summer. In a year and a half, we'll be sending her off to college."

"Richard," Martha said in a sing-song voice, leaning away from him.

"So, yes, there is a great _deal_ of difference." Abruptly, Rick realized how wildly he'd been gesticulating with the chef's knife and it clattered on the granite counter.

Alexis and Martha exchanged looks again as he rubbed his face with both hands.

"But you told Kate you wanted more kids," Martha clarified, as Alexis slid the knife away.

"Ye— Yes, but I wanted to _make_ them!" Rick glared at her. He pushed away from the counter, prowling the kitchen. "What difference does it make? The point is, it was a dishonest, deceptive secret to keep all this time." He looked from one to the other. "Who keeps their kid a secret from their closest friends?"

"Spies," Alexis answered as she peered into the salad bowl. She glanced up to find her father and grandmother staring at her. She began slicing more lettuce. "What? Spies have secret identities for their children and spouses so they can—"

Martha's palm slapped the counter top. "Katherine Beckett is no spy!" she said sternly.

Rick stared into space. "No," his voice was grim as he continued, "But, she is secretive and deceptive. Something's not adding up."

In the following silence, the snick of a key turning in a lock drew their attention to the front door. It swung slowly open, revealing the subject of their conversation. Kate's jaw tightened as she stepped inside without speaking and secured the door behind her.

Martha's voice was bright with false cheer. "Katherine, darling!" She slid off her stool and swept toward her, the loose sleeves of her cape fluttering behind her. She hugged Kate, their hands clasping as she drew her in. "Now, Alexis and I were just leaving, it's our annual President's Day shopping trip." She threw a glance at Alexis as she draped an arm over Kate's shoulders to steer her toward the kitchen. "It's an all-day outing, you know. You'll come next year, I'm sure. Alexis, darling, come. Let's give your father and Katherine some _privacy."_

"Ummm…." Alexis hesitantly laid down her knife and eye-checked her dad, who nodded. "Great idea, Gram." She ran off to locate a jacket and purse.

The door closed behind Alexis and Martha before Kate moved or spoke. Rick dumped the lettuce into a salad bowl and retrieved a mango from the fridge.

"Rick?" Kate crossed the room, slowly, and deliberately.

He peeled the sticker off the mango and ran the fruit under the water, rubbing it vigorously.

"You must…" she bit her lip. "You must be furious with me for…" She gave a half shrug, _"this."_

He set the mango on the cutting mat, and sliced the cheeks off either side of the flat seed. He reached for a paring knife and began scoring the flesh of each mango half with deep cuts. Finally, he set his knife down. "How can you possibly think it's okay to _marry me_ without telling me you have a daughter first?"

"Castle… Rick." She slid her coat off, draping it over one of the stools. Slowly, she dragged her eyes to meet his. "I… made a bad judgment call… years ago. Then, I—"

"Years ago? Try _two months_ ago!"

She caught her lower lip between her teeth. "That too." She took a deep breath. "I didn't know how to bring it up, how to tell you in a way you'd understand." Her voice rose. "The longer I waited, the worse it got."

"Why? What is so difficult about opening your mouth and saying, 'I have a daughter!' " The two mango halves lay, abandoned on the cutting mat as he held her gaze, his shoulders were rigid.

"Yeah, I tried that, on our wedding day." She moved closer. "I swear, Castle, if it hadn't—If there'd been _time,_ I would have told you. But there wasn't. You breaking up with Gina, becoming available _just_ before the stipulated time elapsed in Grandmother's will…. There was barely enough time to pull the wedding off as it was." She circled the bar, walking toward him, her voice still low but her words came more and more quickly.

He watched her come, his expression unchanging.

"As much as I _want_ to have this behind us, to focus on building our life together, this is exactly why I delayed moving in with you. I want you to meet Hannah, and have everything out—everything _settled_ first."

She was near enough to touch him. She didn't. Her arms hung at her sides, her fist working as her lower lip was caught between her teeth. "I am sorry, _so_ sorry that you're finding out after the fact."

He pursed his lips finally. Going to the fridge, he stared into its depths in silence.

"Look, you didn't know about Hannah Joy, if you need time…."

At length, he withdrew an avocado and a package of jicama. "I'm upset, yes," he closed the fridge and faced her, "that you didn't feel you could trust me with knowledge of your daughter for the last _two years._ And I said some things last night I didn't mean, things I regret." He sighed. "Anger and exhaustion are a deadly combination in a fight. You were right to leave when you did." He dropped the food on the kitchen counter before casting her a look and slicing mango cubes off the peel. "I need to get used to this… whole… _stepdad_ thing, but…" he faced her at last, laying down the knife.

Kate's eyes were riveted to his face, hers was flushed with emotion.

He was about to speak, but hesitated, his eyebrows quivering as if struggling with something. He captured her gaze with a direct stare. "Curiously, what would you have done if I'd said 'No'?"

She blinked at him. "N-no?"

"When you proposed."

Her eyes widened. "Oh." She looked away, as if thrown by the subject change. "I… suppose… I'd have been looking for a way to tell you about Hannah anyway."

It was his turn to blink at her. _"Hannah?_ You—" his brow furrowed. "What about your _inheritance?"_

"Oh, that." She shrugged. "It would have gone to my cousin."

"You came to me _desperate_ to keep the estate. Now, you're telling me you'd have just let it go?"

Her brows knit in confusion. "What else could I have done?"

Rick dumped the jicama into the salad bowl and set to work on the avocado.

"Why not Josh?"

She shook her head. "I didn't—Why are we talking about _Josh?"_

"Why do you keep bringing up Gina?"

"She's part of the story," she said slowly.

"So's Josh." Salad finished, he pushed the bowl aside, dumped the utensils in the sink and rounded the bar to where Kate stood.

She crossed her arms, perplexed. "There was no _backup plan,_ if that's what you're wondering."

He nodded slowly, the lines of his face smoothing out somewhat. "But you took a chance with me."

Her breath caught in her throat and her arms gradually unfolded. Her hands clasped and unclasped, mouth hanging open as though hesitating to speak. _"Yes,"_ she finally whispered, her voice soft.

The corner of his mouth curled upwards, and he nodded. He reached for her hand, cradling it in both of his. _"Why?"_

The single word was a caress, a soft puff of warm air breaking over her face as her cheeks flushed and her eyes widened. Her lips quivered slightly as she struggled to speak. "Why?" she finally managed, "Don't you, don't you know?"

"Only in my imagination." His voice was husky. "Tell me."

Liquid pooled in the corner of her eye, spilling over to slide over the curve of her cheek. "I... You were the one, the one I… wanted." She wet her lips. "Almost from the beginning, I thought—I _wanted_ something with you, but I never _believed_ it could be mutual."

His hands fell to his sides, but he kept his voice neutral. "What changed your mind?"

"N-nothing. I gambled." She shook her head, "I still—"

His eyebrows knit. "You _gambled?"_

"I proposed, and you started talking about _forever,_ and I… I was stunned, I never dreamed you'd want that—"

The sounds of the street below and the gentle whir of the furnace were the only sound.

"Castle," she whispered, "If I could go back and change things, I would. If I could go back and tell you about Hannah years ago, I would."

"Sshhh." His thumb caressed the back her hand.

"I know how messed up this is." Golden-green eyes stared into his.

"Sshhh," he whispered again. "I know." He cupped her cheek, his thumb resting against her lips. "If Hannah doesn't have a father, then… well…."

Kate's lips parted, and her breath came very quickly.

He smiled then. "When do we meet?"

"Oh…." Kate's eyes rounded, and for a moment she couldn't speak. "Rick, I—"She drew back, pressing a fist to her mouth. Her eyes glimmering for a moment before she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

He held her in silence, one corner of his mouth curling up in a tender smile.

"Kate? Are you…" His voice was soft.

"I just… I'm fine." She swiped at her cheeks as she pulled away. "Do you want to go upstate to meet her? As soon as I can manage another day off, I mean." A tremulous smile flirted with the corner of her mouth.

"You don't want to bring her here?"

"I do… we could. I just…" She laced her fingers through his. "I want you to see Kensington Manor," she murmured as the smile spread over her face. "Remember I told you about my grandfather? His magic studio is intact and Hannah loves doing magic shows. I want you to see it, the farm, the brook…. I always imagined you meeting Hannah _there."_

"You _always_ imagined?" a corner of his mouth curled upwards.

Kate ducked her head slightly and bit her lip, but squeezed his hand tightly. "I may have looked forward to this longer than you suspect."

* * *

 _For news on my future, original stories, please follow my public **facebook group, Bren Williams Readers Forum** or on **Twitter,** **at Bren_Williams.**_

 _ **Reviews are always welcome.**_


	8. First Sight

**_July 18, 2017_**

 _Yes, it's me, posting chapters merely days apart. Try not to faint! ;)_

 _Because this chapter is very long, 6000 words, I put extra scene breaks near the midpoint, for those of you short on time._

 _As you read, kindly bear in mind that this story is_ _far out in the_ alternative universe _, more so than most. Which is part of the fun of fanfiction, exploring ideas where the show would never go. Reviews are always appreciated, but most of all, just enjoy the ride._

* * *

SITTING IN A TREE, BACKWARDS

Part III

* * *

 ** _First Sight_**

 ** _CHAPTER EIGHT_**

* * *

The following weekend in **New Shrivenham, New York** …

Kate clambered up the rail fence separating the barnyard from the rest of the estate, straddling the top rail to survey the entirety of Kensington Manor: the older farm buildings, its turn of the century farmhouse, and the modern home and garage they'd just left.

Rick leaned on the rail beside her, taking in her jeans and muddy boots, along with her relaxed smile. Looking her over, his eyes lingered on the muddy boots.

"I'd not have taken you for the cowgirl type. Reverse-cowgirl maybe, but not—"

Kate rolled her eyes. "Just don't buy me a ten gallon hat."

"I may buy you spurs," he purred, raising one eyebrow.

She gave him a sidelong glance, her lips twitching and hopped down beside him. "Well, Rick, You've seen Dad's house, the pool, tennis courts. You'll see the barn and horses later. What do you think of Kensington Manor so far?"

Rick took another look around the estate. Trees surrounded the spacious not-quite-a-mansion and the nearby hills. "The view of the river is tremendous. It must be gorgeous when the trees turn colors."

Kate's answering smile was broad and she hopped down to grasp his hand. "It _is,_ and in the spring when everything is blooming." She led him down a well-trodden path away from the modern house where Jim lived with Hannah.

"Are we leaving the property?"

"It seems like it, doesn't it? Up ahead is the original farmhouse where my cousin, Kendra, and her family live. The original barn is over there. Lauree and the staff handle the milking and farm side of things. Logan oversees the estate business. Dad has very little to do management wise. It keeps him free to work."

"From home."

"Mostly. He drives into the city for meetings and court dates as needed. Kendra and Logan keep Hannah Joy when he can't be there." She shrugged. "That's probably where they are now."

The pair tramped up ancient stone steps past a modern play structure that seemed somewhat out of place against the Colonial-style farmhouse. The main entrance to Kendra and Logan's home was through a scrub room lined with benches, muddy boots and winter coats of all sizes, scarves and mittens. It opened to the kitchen fitted with two stoves, a modern glass top range and an enormous wood burning stove like something out of Little House on the Prairie.

A curvy brunette peered in from a doorway, then ran to hug Kate, exclaiming, "You made it! Hannah's been talking about you and Rick all morning!"

"Is she here—" Kate asked just as a grinning four foot version of herself appeared in the doorway from the living room.

"Mom!" Six year old Hannah Joy tackled her mom, a big smile on her face. The next several moments were busy with greetings, and excited children underfoot. Brunettes were everywhere, it seemed.

Jim, following on Hannah's heels, hugged Kate and greeted Rick with a handshake and a smile. He hung back with Rick to provide the specifics from a vantage point just inside the living room door. "That's Logan on the phone over there, Kendra's husband, obviously, and the farm manager. That's their daughter, Sammy, chasing the puppy. She's is just a year or two older than Hannah Joy, and they're inseparable most of the time, as you can see, and little Jonnie…."

The toddler wandered over to Jim, tugging on his pants to be picked up.

"Jonnie I remember," Rick said, "I personally pulled him off my stairs twice at the wedding."

Jim scooped up the little guy to receive a sticky hug. "Yes, stairs are his thing. As you can see, Kendra's are gated."

Hannah, with her cousin Sammy in tow, lifted a chocolate Labrador puppy up for Kate's inspection, while Kendra held a quiet, but heated, conversation with a teenaged boy about turning off the PlayStation. Logan, phone to his ear, gave Rick a friendly wave and ducked into another room. Jim turned little Jonnie over, hanging him by his ankles while the tyke squealed with delight. The next several moments were busy with greetings, and excited children underfoot. Brunettes were everywhere, it seemed.

"Who's the gamer?" Rick asked, gesturing toward the teenager, now reluctantly turning off the electronics lining the far wall.

"Kendra's son, Keith. And this, is my niece, Kendra." Jim slid an arm around her shoulders, squeezing tightly.

Kendra reminded Rick a lot of Kate only shorter and curvier in a long sweater that came down to her knees. She held a similar aura of command.

"All right, Sammy, take Mocha out for a potty break, and let Hannah visit with her… with her mom." Kendra flushed and turned to Rick. "It's so great you could come out, Rick. Hannah's been talking about you nonstop and your daughter… Lexi?"

"Alexis. She and my mother will be here in an hour or two."

Deprived of her sidekick and the puppy, Hannah's face was embedded in her mom's side, arms wrapped around her waist, suddenly too shy for introductions.

"And how exactly are you related again?" Rick asked, gesturing to Kendra and Kate.

Jim's hands were full, blowing flaburbs on Jonnie's belly, so Kendra answered. "My mom, Terri Miller, is Jim's sister." Meanwhile, Kate maneuvered Hannah to a quieter corner of the room where she crouched down, talking to her daughter.

"How long have you lived here?" Rick asked, doing his best not to stare.

"Almost three years, since the last manager retired and moved to Florida. We were looking for an excuse to get out of the city. She grinned. We couldn't have asked for a better opportunity."

"I can't imagine living away from the city," Rick said, shaking his head. "The energy, the people… not so much the traffic and crime."

"You do see the city's underbelly, working with Kate."

"Very true."

A short distance away, Kate had drawn her daughter aside to whisper in her ear, which was all she could see of the face that was still embedded in her side. "Hannah Joy, Are you ready to meet Rick, finally?"

Hannah's head twisted from side to side.

Kate was exasperated. "I thought you wanted to meet him."

"I don't know," she finally peeked at her mom. "Does he know about me, yet?"

"Yes, I told you he does!" Kate whispered, kneeling so she was on eye level with Hannah. "He loves kids and he wants to meet you."

Hannah peeked at Rick who was talking to Kendra, smiling even. She took a deep breath. "Okay."

Rick heard Kate calling his name and found Kate and Hannah watching him. Hannah reached up, clasping Kate's hand as he approached.

There was something eerily beautiful about the girl. Not that her appearance was alien or unusual, but she looked so familiar. _Well, she_ is _Kate's daughter,_ he mused. _But there's something else. Something…._

Hi, Hannah," he said softly, crouching down to her level. "I hear you like to play _spy."_

She nodded slowly, her eyes lighting up.

"Me too."

A big smile spread over her face, and she turned toward him, still clinging to Kate's hand. "Do you play in the dark with all the lights off?" she asked breathlessly.

He nodded and grinned, thinking of Laser Tag. "Is that how you play?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "When Papa works late in his office, I sneak around in the dark, trying to keep him from seeing me."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She released Kate's hand at last. "Sometimes, we play spy in the barn while Lauree and Bob are milking, or at recess; I'm always the French spy trying to uncover the enemy's secrets."

"Who's the enemy?"

Hannah made a face "Jordan and Sandi. They're _bossy._ "

"We should head back to the main house. Alexis and Martha will be arriving soon." Kate interjected gently. Rick nodded as Jim's voice came from behind them.

"And Hannah didn't finish her chores this morning."

Hannah's face fell. "But, it's just the eggs, Papa. Can't I collect them tomorrow?"

"I'll help," Kate murmured. "Let's go." The two clasped hands and disappeared out the back door. Jim and Rick paused on the porch, watching them hurry off before Jim led Rick down the path toward his home.

* * *

"Sorry about the girls disappearing right after you got here. Those two never get enough time together," Jim said, as Rick followed him into the larger, more modern home a half mile from the farmhouse. "How was the drive up?"

"Fast," he admitted as he slid his coat off. "Kate behind the wheel of a Ferrari is someth—" There was a flutter of wings and Rick felt something clutch his shoulder. He jumped, nearly out of his skin, and there was another flutter as the 'something' flew away. _"What the he—"_

"I'm sorry, Rick. You just met Hannah's parakeet. He likes meeting new people."

"Can't you train him to come over and shake my hand?" Rick asked, staring at the blue and yellow budgie now perched on Jim's head. The tiny bird whistled and flew at Rick again, who manfully held his ground, his body stiff as the bird landed on his head.

"We tried to shut him in his cage this morning, but he doesn't… always…" Jim stuck his index finger out and slowly raised his hand, offering the bird a new perch. "…cooperate."

The bird stepped onto Jim's finger and promptly flew away, landing on Rick's shoulder. Rick eyed the visitor. "What's his name?"

"Chip."

"Hey there, Chip, it's nice to meet you."

The bird cocked his head, staring at Rick with a beady eye.

"Does he talk?"

"When he wants to. You can offer him your finger, or… here. I'll try shutting him in his cage."

"No, no. Leave him. I like sm—"

The bird switched alliances, flying to Jim's shoulder, scolding loudly.

"Let's hope he'll leave you alone. Can I take your coat?"

Several minutes later, Rick and Jim were seated in a roomy kitchen with tons of windows, each with a mug of coffee.

An awkward silence grew and Rick racked his brain for a safer topic. "Does Hannah look much like Kate did as a child?"

Jim smiled and got a far off look in his eye. "A bit. Their coloring is similar and she's built a lot like Katie, not quite as slender though."

"Does Hannah resemble her dad much?" Rick probed.

Jim shot him a look, an eyebrow raised. "Fishing for information are we?" he said after a brief pause.

Rick quirked an eyebrow in response. "You can't blame me for trying." He gave his most disarming smile.

"That's Katie's story to tell." Jim gave him a faint nod and went on as if Rick had never brought the subject up. "Hannah loves horseback riding, too. She rode almost every day last summer."

"What other activities did Kate do growing up?"

Chip chattered away in another room as the two men fell into an easy conversation. Finally, the back door banged open a short time later. Hannah entered with Kate in tow. Their cheeks were flushed with the cold and excitement, and a basket of eggs in Kate's hand. Chip flew to Hannah's shoulder in greeting.

"Papa! The striped kitty had kittens! That's why she's been missing!"

"Kittens?" Rick asked, raising his eyebrows, and he gave a delighted smile.

"How many?" Jim said.

"Five."

Kate set the basket on the counter and headed right for the coffee pot, pulling a mug out of the cupboard.

"There's a black one, an orange one and three striped ones like the mama."

Kate pulled out a seat next to Rick, slipping her cold fingers into his hand. He gave her a quick squeeze.

"Come on, I want to show you!" Hannah grabbed Jim's hand in her enthusiasm.

"Not right now, Hannah. We have a visitor." Jim nodded to Rick.

"Oh. Do you want to come too?" Hannah asked Rick.

"I would love to."

" _After_ I finish my coffee." Kate said firmly.

"Aw." Just then, Chip fluttered in from the living room, landing on Hannah's shoulder, chattering. Hannah didn't flinch. "Hi, Chip." She held her index finger level and he hopped on. "Give me a kiss." Chip pecked at Hannah's mouth. "Good birdie."

"He gives kisses? That's amazing!"

"Uh huh." Hannah held Chip out toward Rick. "Try it."

Gingerly, Castle held up his index finger and the turquoise blue budgie hopped onto it. He held the bird up to his mouth. "Give me a kiss."

Chip stared at him for a moment, then fluffed his feathers, pooped, and flew away.

"Oh shhh—ship! Ship!" Rick muttered, self-correcting for Hannah's benefit. Kate smirked while Jim kept a stiff upper lip.

"No big deal." Kate said. "Hannah, get Rick a tissue, please."

"A tissue and _hand sanitizer,"_ Rick said, completely grossed out.

"It's just a little parakeet poop." Hannah said, kissing Chip fondly on the beak.

The doorbell rang and Hannah ran to the door with Chip flying after her while Jim handed Rick a tissue.

"Uh," Rick said, as if belatedly remembering something. "Perhaps we should keep…."

 _"_ _Oh my God! What is it?"_

Jim hurried to the door with Rick and Kate close behind. Jim and Alexis stood in the foyer, while Martha, her hands a flutter, tried to shoo off a parakeet that was determined to greet her.

"It's okay, Martha—"

"Hannah grab the butterfly—"

"Gram, Gram! It's okay, just let him land—"

Chip settled on Rick's head just as Hannah appeared with a butterfly net, handing it to Jim.

Rick scowled in consternation, _If you poop, bird…._

"I'm so sorry, Martha," Kate said, coming forward to help her up. "We should have locked the bird up."

"Is that what that is?" Martha asked from the floor, her hair in disarray and completely frazzled.

"He's so cute!" Alexis cooed,.

"I didn't even see him, I just felt him land and the next thing I knew… I was on the floor and…" Martha shuddered.

Rick offered Chip a finger and brought the little bird to eye level. "He likes you, Mother."

"Oh my—"

"Just hold the net, Martha," Jim said, helping her up. He pressed the butterfly net into her hands. "Chip won't come near you while you're holding this."

"A butterfly net?" Alexis's eyes were huge.

"Don't ask." Kate advised.

Rick winked at her. "BDSM, birdie style."

* * *

Hannah locked Chip into the cage in her room and descended the sweeping staircase back into the foyer to find five pairs of eyes staring at her. She froze and took a step back. Kate ascended the last several steps to whisper in her ear. Still, Hannah wouldn't move.

"She's a little shy around new people," Jim said, directing their attention away from Hannah. "But she'll warm up soon if we give her a little time. Can I take your coats?"

"Oh, of course." Martha smiled warmly in Hannah's direction. "Alexis was shy, too, you know." She slid off her leopard print faux fur. "Do you remember, Richard? She wouldn't so much as say good morning to her kindergarten teacher until November."

Rick gave his daughter a fond smile. "How could I forget? But once she starts…"

"Don't even, Dad!" Alexis rolled her eyes.

Hannah watched the newcomers with wide gray eyes, seemingly relieved to no longer be the focus of the attention.

"Anyway, with Richard, it was just the opposite," Martha continued, laying her coat over Jim's arm. "He never knew a stranger. He could talk to anyone, anywhere and—"

"Still does." Kate replied dryly.

Rick gave her a slow smile, still observing Hannah out of the corner of his eye. "It's from the long hours I spent babysitting myself at the New York Public Library," he informed Jim. "Mother was working, and I was doing a lifetime's research for my future writing career."

"It seems to have worked out well for you," Jim observed, turning away. "Alexis, Martha, would you give me a hand?"

Hannah trailed Kate and Rick into a sitting area, where they made themselves comfortable while Hannah hovered nearby. "Do you like horses?" she finally asked Rick. "We have lots of horses."

"Do _you?"_ Rick asked, exaggerating his surprise. "How many?"

"Five. I have a pony now, but Papa says I'll get a bigger horse for my birthday."

"I think what Papa said was that you couldn't have a horse _now_ ," Kate corrected. "Maybe when you're bigger."

Hannah scowled and Rick grinned. "It is nice to meet your mini-me!" he told Kate.

Hannah looked at him, confused.

"What's your pony's name?" he asked.

"Lady." She planted a hand on the arm of the loveseat and a nearby easy chair, pushing herself up and swinging in the space in between.

"Is she fun to ride?"

"He."

"He?" Rick's eyes widened.

"Lady's a boy pony."

"Well…" Rick nodded slowly. "I once knew a man they called Jayne, so I guess that works."

"Lady's gonna have a baby."

Rick's eyebrows knotted. "Your boy pony's having a baby?"

"No, Mom's mare."

"So, Mom has a horse named Lady and you have a pony named Lady?"

"Uh-huh."

Rick nodded introspectively. "Got it. Please tell me that Lady's baby wasn't sired by Lady."

Hannah looked at Kate in confusion.

"The neighborhood stallion played stud," said Kate.

"Oh good. What's his name?"

Kate sighed and her eyes dropped to her lap. She gave her head a little shake. "Castle," she mumbled finally.

Rick blinked and stared at her. "Really? You have a stud named Castle —Scratch that. You have _two_ studs named Castle?"

She smiled but did not respond.

"That's just—"

"You want to go riding?" Hannah asked.

"I'd love to," said Rick, rising to his feet. "Why don't you ask the others if they want to go, too?"

"Darling," said Martha when she heard the plan, "The only way these bones are getting that far off the ground is in an elevator. You go. Take your mother and Alexis. Richard would love to go too, I'm sure…."

In the end, Jim kept Martha company in the house and the four riders trooped out to the barn together. Hannah and Kate gave them the grand tour, including the stage Late-Grandpa George built for informal magic shows, and the milking barn where the farm hands were busy, working their way through the herd.

"Look, 'Lexis!" Hannah grabbed Alexis's hand and pointed to where a cow waited to be milked. The hands hadn't yet connected her to the milk machine and a litter of half-grown kittens sat beneath her swollen udder, licking milk dripping off the tips.

"Adorable," Alexis cooed. "Dad, can we get a kitten?"

"Sure."

"Really?" she turned to him with her eyes alight.

"As soon as you get your own place." He smiled benignly at Hannah. "Do you have a kitty?"

"No, just my budgie."

"A budgie? You mean your parakeet, Chip?"

"Uh-huh. He stays in my room most of the time though." She scampered away to open the corral gate for the group.

"My idea of pet ownership is bridle lessons at Central Park," Rick informed Kate.

"You and Alexis never had a family pet?"

"Owning pets involves cleaning up after them and that is not my cup of tomato juice," Rick said.

"But it's such a great way for children to learn responsibility," Kate said.

"I learned enough responsibility looking after Dad, thank you!" Alexis put in.

Rick looked innocent and Kate smirked. "No argument there."

* * *

Kate led them away from the milkers to a tack room. "Hannah's pony is too small to keep up with the larger horses so Hannah can ride double." She handed out various gear and gestured to a row of saddles. "Reynolds Wrap is the biggest horse, and the best one for you to ride, Rick. but, he's slow."

"What's up there?" Alexis asked, as they left the tack room.

Kate's eyes followed hers upward to the ladder built into the wall of the barn and the loft above.

"Hay loft."

"'Lexis, come see my pony!" Hannah demanded, scampering off.

Rick raised one eyebrow inquiringly.

"It's for hay storage. They load it into the loft after harvest and then it's easy to drop it into feeding troughs below in the winter."

"Really." One corner of his mouth curled upward in a very familiar, very sexy half-smile. He leaned closer, sliding his arm around her waist as he did. "Have you ever had _roughed up a suspect_ in a hay loft?" he murmured.

"Uh, _no,"_ she said, then lowered her voice to match his. "It's dusty, drafty, scratchy, and the hay is in bales not… soft piles like on the Dukes of Hazzard."

"So we'll bring extra-thick blankets and Allegra." The stubble on his chin brushed the delicate skin of her cheek just as his lips brushed her ear. "It'll be _fun."_

His breath tickled her ear, and his arm slid around her waist, his hand slipping under her jacket to glide over her midriff. For a moment, she leaned into him, nuzzling his neck.

"Hey, Dad, I thought you were going with us?" Alexis was already seated on a bay mare, reaching down for the heavy blanket Hannah handed her, which she placed over the horn of her saddle.

Kate pulled away.

"Uh, right! I am!" he said.

"Well, my mount is saddled, Kate's is almost done and…."

"Reynolds Wrap needs a wrap. Got it!" He pulled away and went to saddle his horse.

Kate watched him snap a saddle blanket over the gelding's back. "Do you know what you're doing?"

"Of course I do! Alexis and I took bridle lessons ages ago! We learned to saddle our own mounts, among other things."

"There's a trick to getting the cinch tight enough around the belly…" Kate began.

"Yes, slap the horse's side to get him to release his breath. I know."

"Reynolds Wrap doesn't like it." Hannah Joy advised him.

"Is that right?"

"Uh-huh. Gotta do it twice, Papa says."

"Well, let's get'er done." Rick agreed dragging a saddle off a saw horse.

* * *

"What were you and Dad talking about earlier?" Kate asked later, as they followed Alexis and Hannah back down the hills toward the estate on horseback. The clouds hung unusually low over the hillside and the riders were glad for the gloves Jim had offered before they went out.

"Oh, this and that," Castle replied, giving her a sideways glance as he kicked his mount, trying to keep up with her. "Your Uncle Samuel Beckett, your motorcycle, and how much Hannah resembles her dad…."

Beckett gave him an amused glance. "Sure you did."

"I'm sorry; how much Hannah resembles her _sperm donor._ " He gave her a sidelong glance, one corner of his mouth tipping upward.

Alexis and Hannah had ranged ahead, riding double, but Alexis now reined in and waited for them to catch up.

"Mom, can I ride with you?" Hannah asked Kate, shifting uncomfortably from her seat in front of Alexis.

"The blanket isn't enough padding over my saddle's horn." Alexis shrugged apologetically.

"Rick's saddle doesn't have one." Kate turned to Rick.

"C'mon, Hannah." Rick gestured for her to join him. "You can ride with me."

Minutes later, Hannah and her blanket-cushion were arranged in front of Rick, and Alexis led them back onto the trail. Hannah leaned against Rick, enjoying the swaying gait of the large, slow gelding.

"Rick? Do you like magic?"

"Magic?" Rick's face lit up in interest.

"I do magic tricks. Sometimes, mom and I do shows together."

"That I would love to see." Rick declared, noticing Kate and Alexis were some distance ahead. "What tricks can you do?"

Hannah twisted her neck to grin up at him. "I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

Kate still twisted in her saddle, watching them, her face wistful.

"First rule of magic, never reveal your secrets," she nodded sagely.

"Very wise." The lines at the corners of Castle's eyes crinkled as he grinned down at her. "What's the second?"

Hannah thought for a moment. "Harm nothing."

"Harm nothing?" He cocked his head, giving her the side-eye. "Just what is it you're _doing_ with your magic tricks?"

"I dunno," Hannah shrugged, "but it's either that or 'be subtle', I always get those two confused."

Rick nodded. "I can see why. That's a lot to keep straight."

Hannah's eyes lingered on Rick's face, gray eyes wide and curious.

"Do I look funny to you?"

"No." Still, she watched him.

"Did I grow two noses?" Rick asked her finally, kicking his mount's flanks to get him to speed up.

"No." Her voice betrayed no amusement and she scarcely blinked.

He finally looked down at her, curiously. "Then why are you staring at me?"

"Are you my daddy?"

"Uh…." Rick gave her another quick look before glancing up the trail to see Kate and Alexis disappear around the bend. "I… why do you ask?"

"Mom says I'm going to meet my daddy someday."

He looked down into her eyes, her little face so new and yet so familiar. "Did she?" he asked quietly. The little girl nodded, still very serious.

 _What the hell does_ that _mean?_ His brow knit as he kicked Reynolds Wrap again. He gave a little spurt of speed before slowing. "What else did she say?"

"She talks about you a lot. She calls you ' _Castle'_ though. Castle did _this_ and said _this_. She always told me I was going to meet you, so I thought maybe you were my daddy."

"Hunh." A memory of Kate's voice from days earlier echoed in his thoughts. _Hannah doesn't have a father, Rick. I was hoping she would now._

Hannah still stared up at him. "Do you _want_ me to be your daddy?" His voice was very soft, hesitant even.

Her gaze never wavered. "Yeah."

"Sorry, Sweetie." He gave her a sad little smile. "Maybe she meant that you'd have a _stepdad_ someday."

"What's a stepdad?"

"Because I married your mom, that's what I am to you."

"Oh." she thought this over. "So I'm your _step_ daughter?"

"That's right." Rick guided Reynolds Wrap back onto the lane leading back to the manor. He could no longer hear Kate and Alexis, but didn't mind at all.

"Like in Cinderella," she said, settling against him

"No, not like in Cinderella! That was a step _mother."_

"She was mean."

"I can be mean." He looked down at her again, trying to look intimidating. Reynolds Wrap was suddenly in a big hurry, kicking up to a trot and jostling Hannah.

She giggled. "No you're not!"

Rick steadied her and pulled back on the reins. "What? How do you know?"

"I just know." She fell silent for a moment. "So 'Lexis is my stepsister, just like in Cinderella."

"Yes, only she's a _nice_ stepsist—Whoa!"

By now, Alexis and Kate had reached the barn and dismounted. Reynolds Wrap, seeing his comfortable home ahead of him, picked up more speed, increasing to a gallop. Rick pulled back on the reins and Hannah grabbed his mane, tugging.

"Whoa, Reynolds Wrap! Whoaaaaeeeee!"

The jostling continued and ever so slowly, the saddle slid sideways.

 _We're going to fall, I'm going to land on Hannah and break something…"_ The saddle dumped Rick and Hannah into the tall grass along the trail. Heart pounding in his chest, Rick jerked himself away from her, hoping it would be enough.

Hannah kicked hard against Reynolds Wrap's flank, launching herself away and rolling through the damp brush beside the trail a second before Rick took his fall, landing inelegantly on a knee and sprawling in an inelegant heap.

 _"_ _Hann—oppppt!"_ he coughed, spitting dirt. He was only marginally aware of fading hoof beats and distant shouts from Kate and Alexis. He craned his neck to see over the long grass. "Hannah?" he called, needing to hear her voice, to know she was all right. He heard light, running footsteps and breathed easier.

"Rick? Are you dead?" she asked, appearing against the gray sky.

He smiled, grateful for her apparent well-being, and the soft ground.

He rolled onto his back so he could stare up at her silhouette against the low, gray clouds, laughing in relief. "Yeah, sweetie, I'm fine." He took a deep breath or two before sitting up and asking, "Where did you learn to do that?"

"What?"

"Kick away from the horse and roll."

"Gymnastics. We fall a lot. You have to learn how to fall or you get hurt."

"Ah. Glad to hear it." He thought about getting up but decided it was too much effort. Still, Hannah stared down at him. "Give me a hand up?"

Gamely, she reached for his hands.

"Pull, hard," he told her, "Harder! You can do it!"

She planted her feet, scrunched her eyes up, pulling for all she was worth. He gave a hard tug of his own, sending her sprawling on top of him, giggling as he wrapped her tightly in his arms.

 _Not hurt, so glad,_ he breathed, closing his eyes tightly.

'… _there is no father, not really.'_ Kate's words from days earlier came back to him.

 _That's no longer true, not anymore…_ he acknowledged at last. _From here out, she's mine._ He swallowed, his chest tightening again with a very different emotion. _My little girl…_. He'd find a pint-sized set of laser tag gear for her, and a set for Kate, too. His smile widened as he imagined the fun they would have, watching Hannah imitate the older, more experienced family members in the game, and the challenge of trying to catch Kate by surprise in the dark loft. She'd have to move into the loft with them soon, both of them.

He gave one last squeeze as Kate and Alexis jogged up.

"Dad!"

"Hannah…. Rick, are you guys okay?"

Hannah sat up, still giggling. "Hhh-yeah!"

Rick gave her a smile. "I think so." He reached toward Alexis. "Give me a hand up?"

Alexis crossed her arms, staring indulgently down at her father.

"Rick didn't get the billet strap tight enough on Reynolds Wrap," Hannah proclaimed as Castle climbed laboriously to his feet.

"Apparently not," Kate agreed, hugging Hannah tightly.

Alexis smirked.

"Where's Reynolds Wrap now?" Rick asked, dusting himself off while Kate did the same for Hannah.

"The barn," Alexis said. "He kicked it up to a gallop and went right to his stall."

"Lauree says he's lazy," Hannah announced to general agreement.

"Either way," Rick quipped to many groans, "our afternoon is _stalled."_

* * *

Hours later, they were alone in Kate's bedroom at the estate, the walls bare but for an eclectic collection of photos of Kate at all ages, augmented with snapshots of Hannah.

"What I meant was, she would meet _you_ someday." Kate sounded slightly defensive, as she removed her boots and shimmied out of her jeans.

"You expected us to meet as her _step_ -family?" he asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

"No… just…." Flustered, she grabbed a pair of yoga pants to put on. "I've told her about you, quite a bit actually, I don't know…."

"Why are you so vague on the subject of Hannah's father?"

"I…" She swallowed. "Because it's—"

The door burst open and Rick yanked the covers over himself, hiding his boxers. Kate frowned as a dark head appeared.

"Mom?" She pushed the door open. "Can I show Rick my story?"

"Your story?" Kate frowned at her daughter.

"Yeah, I wrote it, and it's about _spies!"_

Kate pushed her hair away from her face. "This isn't really the best—"

"Wait!" Rick held up a hand to cut Kate off. "You wrote a story about _spies?"_

Bemused, Kate looked from one to the other, as Hannah took several steps toward them, a smile growing on her face. She nodded vigorously.

He sat up a little straighter, "That is so cool!"

He sat up and gestured for the discarded T-shirt on the chair. Kate tossed it to him, hiding a smile as he pulled it on.

"The Mom and Dad go on a vacation together and disappear…" she lowered her voice for dramatic effect, "so their daughter becomes a—"

"Wait! Wait! Don't tell me! You'd better get it and read it to us," Rick interrupted.

Hannah thought this over. "Okay." She scampered off, leaving the door wide-open.

"Aren't there any locks on these doors?" he asked, twitching the covers higher. Kate folded her legs beneath her and settled onto the bed beside him.

"Obviously not."

"Married people need locks on their doors…. scratch that. _Sexually active adults_ need locks."

"Does Alexis have a lock on hers?"

Rick's face froze for a second. "I did _not_ just hear that."

Kate was still smiling when Hannah reappeared with a packet of papers in her hand, all dog-eared and stapled down one side. The little girl leapt onto the bed beside him and began reading.

Kate watched Hannah and Rick snuggle in bed, their voices soft as they moved through the dog-eared pages of the story, pausing occasionally to discuss the illustrations.

 _There's some things you need to know—_ she shook her head and began again. _Rick, I've made some bad decisions, a series of bad decisions, now I'm in a mess._

She turned away from the two of them laughing over an illustration, but the large dresser mirror would not allow her to escape her regrets so easily. "I love you," she whispered, staring at her reflection, with Rick and Hannah visible behind her. _I've made a mess of things and I'm not sure how to make it right._ The words arranged and rearranged themselves, unfolding in her thoughts as she considered his righteous fury for the millionth time, the temper that so rarely ignited. _He'll be furious._ Her lips pressed together as she grabbed her toothbrush and pajamas and ducked into the bathroom.

Flipping on the light, she ignored the gleaming fixtures and stared at the grim lines on her own face. This time it was her father's words echoing in her thoughts. _If someone reveals this secret to her in anger, it will forever damage her view of her family_.

Hannah eventually drifted off with her head lodged against Rick's side. Kate eased the ratty packet of paper out from under Hannah's arm and flipped through it by the light of her bedside lamp. Her eyes wandered from her daughter to her sleeping husband, her heart full and warm. _This is all I ever wanted._ She turned off the light and eased back into bed.

Except for the dishonesty. The warmth fled as she contemplated for the millionth time, the conversation that was ahead of her and Rick. How badly would he take it? By the light of stars shining through her window, her gaze wandered over the two of them, tucked under covers. Hannah's mouth was slightly ajar, one fist curled and lodged below her chin. She closed her eyes but the image of the two of them was embedded in her mind's eye.

"It's out of my hands, now" Kate whispered. "Whatever happens, it's time." She leaned over and flicked off the light. Curling herself around her daughter's small shape, Kate lay awake in the dark.

Morning came too soon. Kate roused enough to assess the sounds of movement for possible danger.

It was only Rick and Hannah whispering as they crawled out of bed, giggling over some shared joke.

Moments later, the door eased shut behind them, and Kate drifted off again, content and happy at the sounds of her loved ones, at peace.

"Why are you so vague on the subject of Hannah's father?"

Her eyes popped open as Rick's questions from the night before startled her into wakefulness. _I have to tell him._ _Now. No, not now, not while Hannah's nearby. She can't, she can't be near when…_ _When Castle finally realizes how I betrayed him._

All vestiges of sleep gone, she pushed her hands into her hair, staring at the ceiling as she contemplated her options. _It has to be tonight, at my apartment. I'll ask him to stay over. Show him the book, tell him everything. Maybe… maybe he won't be too angry._

But a cold, sick feeling grew in her belly.

* * *

The next chapter is titled, **_The Shit Hits the Fan_**. Give me a day or two.


	9. The Sh-- Hits the Fan

**_July 20, 2017_**

The chapter you've all been waiting for...

 _As you read, kindly bear in mind that this story is_ _far out in the_ alternative universe _, more so than most. Which is part of the fun of fanfiction, exploring ideas where the show would never go. Reviews are always appreciated, but most of all, just enjoy the ride._

* * *

SITTING IN A TREE, BACKWARDS

Part III

* * *

 ** _The Shit Hits the Fan_**

 ** _CHAPTER NINE_**

Rick's phone pinged with a text just as he raised his fist to knock on Kate's door. His mouth pulled into an almost frown as he shifted the bag of Chinese take-out to the other arm, digging his phone out of his pocket. The text was from Kate:

 _be back in 15_

Still balancing the take-out with his overnight bag, he texted back,

 _No problem. I'll hang out._

He dropped the phone back into his pants pocket before shifting the white plastic sack to the other hand, reaching into another pocket for his keys. He let himself into the silent and dark apartment. Flipping on the light, he set the food on the counter, his overnight bag on the floor beside him. He surveyed her apartment, smugly pleased at the intimacy of letting himself in her territory without her, awaiting her return.

It took no time at all to locate her cutlery and dishes, and to pour them each a glass of wine from the dark bottle he'd tucked into his overnight bag. He set the table for two, arranging it meticulously. Glancing around, he commandeered a small arrangement of silk flowers for a centerpiece. The lights were dimmed, romantic music purred over the i-home stereo system he'd plugged his phone into. There was little else to do but wait.

He retrieved a goblet of wine and prowled the main room. A pile of moving boxes sat beside a bookcase, its shelves filled with varying amounts of books. He crouched beside one that was almost full to peruse the titles. Michael Connely, Stephan Cannell… the glossy hardcovers bore silent witness to Kate's love of the genre. He quirked an eyebrow with interest. Where ever Cannell and Connely were found, his own work was never far.

He ran his fingers lightly over the shiny, embossed spines, lifting several off the top to see what she'd hidden below. The advanced reader copy of _Storm Fall_ caught his eye and he grinned, remembering her irritation at his presence during that first investigation, her distrustful look as he leaned in to brush a kiss on her cheek, then her fury that he'd nicked the crime scene photos from under her nose. He chuckled and took another sip of wine. That was the _first_ time she'd arrested him. The copy was slightly dog-eared and beneath it he discovered, the complete works of Richard Castle.

"Eureka," he whispered.

He moved other titles aside to enjoy an unobstructed view of her collection, lovingly arranged, spines up and in order of publication.

"Not that you're a fan," he whispered in the stillness, the words echoing in his memories. _More like, 'Not that you'd admit to being a fan.'_ His grin widened further.

The edges of older book jackets were frayed and torn, their glossy sheen long since worn away. Rick tugged one out at random, _In a Hail of Bullets_ , noting the paperback's cracked spine and dog-eared pages. _First printing_ , he noted as he found the title page. _I should autograph this—autograph_ all _of them and pretend I never found them._ He tugged the marker from his jacket—he never left home without it—and scrawled his name across the space between the title and author's name. He snapped it closed and pulled out the next, _A Rose for Ever After._ All those years ago, he dedicated it to Kira Blaine. Now… he flipped to the dedication page.

 _Kate, they're all for you._

 _Rick_

He snapped it closed and reached for _Heat Wave,_ the first Nikki Heat novel.

 _Kate,_

 _You're right, it's totally stripper name, but you wear it well._

 _Love,_

 _Rick_

 _Hell Hath No Fury… Death of a Prom Queen… Naked Heat…._

 _Wait… something's_ _missing_ _._ He reviewed the titles again, from In a Hail of Bullets to Naked Heat. _Kissed_ _and_ _Killed_ was missing. He shrugged. No big deal. There were extras at home somewhere. He slid the books carefully back into their places, taking special care with _Storm's Last Stand_ , which was losing pages. He surveyed the titles one last time before tugging a second copy of _Naked Heat_ out. As suspected, this was the copy she'd sent from the Rivermark; the rose was still pressed between its pages—at the love scene, no less. He autographed it as well, notating on the title page, _Wedding Edition_. He slid it back into place and rose, his knees popping as he did. _I'm getting too old for sitting on the floor._ He groaned softly and stretched before replacing the ARC of _Storm Fall_ , and arranging Cannell and Connely's books on top in a fair approximation of how he found the box.

His phone pinged with another text as he refilled his wine.

 _home in 10. Sorry._

He replied: _I'll be waiting_

Some of the smaller mementos and art were packed away, he noticed, a deep joy filling him as he recognized more preparations to move in with him.

He wandered into the bedroom. An open box sat on the floor, overflowing with clothes and shoes, even a lamp. The side was marked St. Vincent de Paul's. He nodded approvingly. _She said she has something to show me. This must be it._

He swirled his wine in his glass, and took another sip before setting it on the dresser and shrugging out of his blazer. He laid it over the back of a chair, stretching out on the bed. It was hard to believe they'd been married this long and they had yet to make love in her bed. His crooked grin appeared. The living room floor was usually as far as they got.

He reached his fists up, over his head in a long stretch, arching his back to clear the kinks from sitting on the floor. Twenty-five books…. his hand had slipped under her pillow, bumping something. He rolled onto his side to investigate.

It was a book— _his_ book, _Kissed and Killed_.

Something stuck out near the front. _A bookmark?_ _Is she rereading…?_ He flipped it open to find an assortment of older photos of Hannah and him, none together, of course, but something about Hannah's face caught his eye and his mouth pulled down in a frown. There was the droop of her eyelid in the first one, and the second… that funny half-smile that seemed somehow familiar. He flipped through his own photos again.

"Holy hell," he breathed.

The resemblance between them was eerie. _Why is…._ Kate's neat printing caught his eye on the inside cover. In a manner similar to her notations in _Naked Heat_ , Kate had recorded careful details:

 _The Day of the Dead; November 1, 2003_

 _Book signing at the 86_ _th_ _Street Barnes & Noble. Dancing, and margaritas at the Varet Club after._

He stared in disbelief. There were more notes with dates and phrases, like _last menstruation, due date_ and finally:

 _Hannah Joy Beckett born August 8, 2004._

There was more, but as he stared at Hannah's name, his mouth fell open, the dates swam in his mind. The Varet Club. When had he ever—How…. No, this could not be—This could not mean what it appeared to. He flipped forward, searching for more clues. His own handwriting caught his eye. Scrawled in thick black ink on the title page

 _Catherine,_

 _Thanks for a memorable night._

 _Rick_

It was followed by his generic signature,

 _Richard Castle_

He slammed the book closed and threw it on the bed, pushing his hands into his hair, and rubbing his face. His heart pounded in his chest but his hands and feet felt odd, detached from the rest of him.

 _Catherine… The Varet Club… A Barnes & Noble book signing…._

He snatched the book open again, rereading the inscription in his own, distinctive handwriting.

The memories, cleverly disguised with makeup and a hazy blurring from alcohol, overwhelmed him. A young woman, dressed for clubbing but laden with shopping bags. Her glorious, dark hair fell passed her shoulders, loose and flowing. Her face was cleverly disguised by lines and shadows, reminiscent of a Day of the Dead skull. Not stark or ghastly like most celebrants, but feminine, subtle, and alluring.

He'd elbowed her in the face, he suddenly remembered, his emotions rising as the pieces snapped into place. Then he invited her out for drinks and an ice pack, hand margaritas followed, with dancing and… Kate!

Hannah.

 _No!_ There was a roaring in his ears and his heart pounded in his chest, constricted by tight bands, squeezing, tightening.

"No…" he whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. The apartment door opened and closed. Kate called his name.

His grip on the book slackened. He almost dropped it. The photos fluttered to the floor where they lay on the carpet, his own face and Hannah's— _his daughter's_ face—smiling up at him.

"Rick?" Kate called again, sounding worried. She appeared in the doorway, staring, her lips forming the word 'no' before she dropped everything in her arms and covered her mouth with both hands.

Rick stared at the title page, reading the words over and over again, words he'd written seven years ago.

 _Catherine,_

He hadn't even spelled her name right!

 _Richard Castle._ Impersonal. The way he'd sign for a fan, not a friend or a lover.

 _November 1, 2003… the Varet Club._

Those dreams, those recurring dreams of Kate shifting from skull to flesh, they were real. He gritted his teeth, not wanting to accept he could've met and made love to Kate, then forgotten her in a meaningless fling.

"Rick," her voice trembled as she stood in the doorway.

 _That woman was Kate._

They'd made a daughter, over seven years ago.

"Rick," Kate said again, coming toward him and throwing her bag aside. "Rick, I… I am so sorry, I never meant to keep this from you for so long… I just—I didn't know how to…." She grabbed his hand, clutching it in both of hers. "Say something," she begged him.

But he couldn't speak. The words, _Hannah is my daughter,_ kept repeating in his thoughts. He crouched, lifting the photos of Hannah, seeing again the resemblance between them.

"My daughter," he finally whispered.

Kate answered him, her voice a ragged whisper of her own. _"Yes."_

His daughter and Kate's. She had hidden her from him, even lied to him.

He felt physically ill.

He looked up, meeting her gaze for the first time, the tears just starting to spill over her cheeks barely registered. "How in the _hell_ could you keep this from me?" His voice was deathly quiet and she stood frozen in place, staring at him, her fingers pressed to her mouth.

He carefully replaced the photos in the book and closed the cover. When he rose, his stare was cold. "You _knew_ I was her father all these years and you never thought maybe she should know me? Know who her father is? That I'd want to be part of her life?"

"I— _Yes,_ I _wanted_ to tell you—"

 _"_ _Two years!_ You've known me for _two years!_ You could have told me at any time but, _no!_ You _waited!_ You _waited_ until _after_ we were _married_ to tell me!" It was difficult to speak past the constriction in his throat. _"How could you do that?"_ His question was a choked whisper.

Kate stood with her head bowed, one arm clutching her belly. The other hand clung to the chain around her neck and her mother's ring.

"You _hid her_ from me! You didn't even _want_ me to know you have a daughter!"

She flinched. "That's not—that's not true. I was completely—"

He stared at her, as if waiting for an answer but she swallowed and did not continue. He walked toward her, anger blazing in his eyes.

"Oh really? What? You were completely… _what?"_

"I wasn't hiding her from you, not you specifically."

"Oh?" His voice was cold.

"I was trying to _protect_ her; you know that; you know _why_." Her voice trembled,

"From _who?_ How can you think you can protect Hannah by isolating her from everyone in your life?" He was seething now, his shoulders rising and falling with every breath, his face vivid in his fury. "You didn't even trust your closest friends with knowledge of your daughter, not even of her existence. You wouldn't even trust _me,_ your partner, Hannah's _father_ —" his voice was choked as he spit out his last words. "Your husba—" The last word twisted and died in his throat. He turned away from her.

"That's not true—"

He spun back around, dashing the tears from his cheeks. " _How_ is that _not_ true? We were partners for _two years,_ Kate, and how long have you known Esposito? Three years? Five?"

"I would have told him— _you_ eventually if…. I _wanted_ to tell you."

"Why didn't you?"

Her hand shook as she pushed her hair back from her face. She swallowed, nervously licking her lips.

He waited for her to continue, his arms folded across his chest.

"Rick," she pinched the bridge of her nose and drew several deep breaths. Her voice still trembled when she spoke but he seemed somehow calmer. She met his cold, gray eyes squarely. "I... There is no justification for keeping—for what I did. I've known for a long time... I've never regretted a decision more than keeping you in the dark." She took a step toward him, her voice pleading"I wanted to tell you so many times, but somehow I…" she shook her head. "I never did. I could never bring myself to."

He shook his head. "That's not enough, Kate."

Her face froze.

He continued relentlessly. "If I can't trust you with something _this_ important, how can I share my life with you?"

He took a step toward her, the lines between his eyebrows deepening as he struggled with his emotions. "You asked me to marry you, because you needed a favor, which I agreed to because I believed, because I always sensed we had something _real_. Then I find…" he shook his head, unable to speak. When he continued, his voice shook. "You've been lying… _deceiving_ me." He shook his head again as he thrust his arms into the sleeves of his coat, pulling it on.

"It's like I don't even know you. You _always_ advocate for truth, Kate, truth and justice for the victim, for the victim's family. Where's _my_ truth? Don't I deserve honesty and openness from my _wife?_ We have a daughter, only you've… _never_ … told me."

"Oh God—please, Rick, don't… Don't leave."

But it was too late. He strode across the apartment, his long overcoat billowing behind him.

* * *

That was kind of intense, right? Chapter 10 will be up tomorrow.

 **Review?**

* * *

 _For news on my future, original stories,_

 _please join my public **facebook group, Bren Williams Readers Forum**_

 _or **Twitter,** **at Bren_Williams.**_


	10. Woman to Woman

**_July 21, 2017_**

 _I'm too tired for an author's note! Enjoy the chapter._

 _As you read, kindly bear in mind that this story is_ _far out in the_ alternative universe _, more so than most. Which is part of the fun of fanfiction, exploring ideas where the show would never go. Reviews are always appreciated, but most of all, just enjoy the ride._

* * *

SITTING IN A TREE, BACKWARDS

Part III

* * *

 _ **Between Storms: Woman to Woman**_

 _ **CHAPTER TEN**_

* * *

Kate stood, unmoving, in the middle of the bedroom, frozen but for her ragged breathing. Rick's footsteps echoed cross her apartment, while tears streamed down her cheeks, plopping against her chest, one by one. The apartment door opened, and her eyes closed. She bit down on her lower lip, her brow furrowing as the door slammed shut.

The silence was broken by each gasping breath as she sank to the floor, her face buried in her hands as the tears came in torrents.

 _Rick,_ her ravaged heart cried out as the first sobs ripped out of her, shaking, and heaving. All she could see was his face, his momentary confusion giving way to shock, betrayal, and….

She shook her head, trying to chase away the devastation in his eyes. Rage would replace the hurt, she knew. Soon, he would want revenge, to hurt her in return. How many times had she witnessed the result of such destructive anger? It was only human nature. It was only what Kate deserved.

How many times had she wondered how to rebuild her life with him and Hannah as a family?

Not so much at first. At first, he was annoying and intrusive and she gave him no opportunity to dig into her life. Somehow, the levity and joy he brought to their work, the joy she felt with him, somehow it made her hope for a better future and a new beginning, like a beacon calling her from the cold night to an unknown time in the future when she valued the living more than solving the mysteries of the dead.

But, that was before she glimpsed the betrayal in his face, he recognized her selfish mistakes. He would not be back.

* * *

Martha and Alexis were curled up under a fuzzy blanket with a bowl of popcorn between them, watching _Downton Abbey_ , when they heard a door slam and turned just in time to glimpse Rick disappearing into his bedroom.

Martha paused the show, listening to footsteps, doors opening and closing, and other muffled sounds of movement.

"Dad?" Alexis called out to no response.

"Richard?" Martha pulled the blanket aside, almost upsetting the popcorn bowl, but Alexis grabbed it just in time.

Still, there was no answer.

Alexis followed Martha toward the master suite.

"Richard? Whatever are you doing?"

Alexis peered over her grandmother's shoulder as her father unzipped a small suitcase on the bed.

"Dad, I thought you were staying the night at Kate's. What's going on." Her voice trailed off as she glimpsed his face.

"Richard, what happened?"

"Nothing _happened_ , per say. I just realized I am married to a lying, _cruel,_ manipulative, and _deceitful_ woman." His voice was low, and rough as he yanked open a drawer, pulling jeans and sweaters out and throwing them into the suitcase.

"I don't understand," Alexis ventured. "Why are you—where are you going?"

"I am going to see my _daughter._ "

* * *

Kate lay on the hard floor, for moments or hours, it seemed not to matter which, arms wrapping her knees, leather jacket and boots still on.

She longed to be at work, away, to feel like her efforts mattered to someone. Anything was better than sitting at home, dwelling on what slipped through her fingers. _This_ was her addiction. Her father lost himself in drink. Kate lost herself in a never ending quest for justice. She denied the addiction usually, but still put it above all else, even her daughter. She craved the hunt for leads, for murder weapons, the careful analysis and hunt, most of all, the simple, clear-minded focus the righteous quest for justice of one without wrong doing. Such as it was at work.. She craved the deep involvement of a fresh homicide that shut out all concerns and focused her will on bringing a killer to justice.

* * *

"Your daughter?" Alexis looked completely confused. Martha's eyebrows knit in concern. Rick tossed a packet of toiletries into the suitcase and zipped it closed.

Martha lowered herself onto the bed. "Hannah. You're going to see Hannah."

"Dad, you're not driving back up to New Shrivenham tonight! They're predicting a lot of snow!"

Rick frowned and disappeared into the closet. "I should bring my bibs." A moment later, he dropped his ski pants and coat on the bed, and set a larger suitcase beside it.

"What happened? What changed?" Alexis asked, her voice filled with worry.

Rick glanced at his watch, his face grim as he transferred everything to the larger bag.

"They're forecasting six to ten inches of snow! You can't seriously be thinking of taking the Ferrari out in that!"

"I'll drive the Beemer." He zipped the suitcase closed. He shrugged his coat on and dragged the case off the bed before dragging Alexis to him, kissing her forehead. "I'll call you tomorrow." He'd almost reached the door by the time she got directly in front of him again, pushing at him with both hands.

"What happened?" she asked. "Why are you doing this?"

"Alexis," he whispered, setting both hands on her shoulders. He stared at her in silence for a long moment, his face flushed with emotion. He tenderly gathered her into his arms.

"Dad," she whispered finally, from where her head rested against his shoulder. "What changed?"

Firmly but gently, he pushed her away, dragging his suitcase toward the front door. "Ask _Kate!"_

The door swung closed behind him and his key turned in the locks.

* * *

Soon after death, autolysis begins. The body's cells split open, spilling their contents into a mass of biofluid. The freed enzymes begin digesting the organs.

Kate lay in the fetal position, surrounded by a sea of wet tissues. Her belly felt raw, crampy, like her body had already begun the process in spite of how her heart pounded away out of habit. Her heart. Her mass of quivering, tortured muscle, still beat despite its devastation. She again heard the words he'd spoken, saw the betrayal in his eyes. Castle, _Rick_. The one man who mattered, never mind that she'd pretended he didn't. He was gone and he'd never forgive her. She saw it in his eyes. He didn't hate her though, not yet.

She wanted a drink, something stiff and strong, and… she wanted… to disappear, to forget. She wanted to drink until oblivion took her, until she slept.

Like Dad.

Every night after Mom's murder, Jim Beckett drank himself to sleep. Kate would come home, or awaken, to find him, and put him to bed until it was too much to watch her father self-destruct, drinking himself to a mini-death every night.

She would never allow herself that escape, but that didn't keep her from craving it. She lay still, and sober, her tears drying on her cheeks and dying on the inside.

Rick's face appeared in her mind's eye, the shock in his eyes again turning to betrayal.

Eyes squeezed tightly shut, she pushed the image away, desperately trying to focus her breathing, to calm herself. At last, she abandoned the attempt, and rose, shaking. She pushed her hair back from her face, staring at herself in the mirror, the puffy, red eyes, the streaks of makeup on her cheeks.

Her makeup was streaked that other time, too. She remembered bits and pieces of how she looked, how her makeup was smeared on her face when she awoke in that first bed she'd shared with Richard Castle. Her hair tangled and in disarray, and his child unknowingly conceived within her.

She stared at herself, knowing she should wash, clean up, but she turned to stare at the bed, the cover slightly rumpled. The book lay on the bed, several pictures stuck out at odd angles.

She longed to hide under the covers, pull them over her head and disappear.

The phone rang, jarring her back to the present.

"Castle," she whispered, wishing, hoping it might be him. She snatched it from the pocket of the leather jacket she still wore, clutching it tightly.

Alexis.

 _God, no! I don't want to have to explain! It's bad enough…_ But she took the call. "Beckett," she croaked, her voice deep and husky with emotion.

"Kate?" Alexis asked, "Are you okay? You don't sound like yourself."

"I'm fine." The lie came easily and there was a long pause before Alexis spoke again.

"Kate what's going on with Dad? Did you—he came home, packed a suitcase and _left."_

"What did he tell you?"

Alexis hesitated. "Not much. He just said something about seeing Hannah. He didn't explain, and it's snowing. Kate, What _happened?_ Did you have a fight?"

Kate closed her eyes. _Of course._ Like any new father, he would go directly to his daughter.

"Kate? Are you there?"

"Yeah. Let me clean up. I'll be over in a bit to explain."

 _If someone reveals this secret to her in anger, it will forever damage her view of her family._

 _What are you saying?_ she'd asked her father slowly, a new worry wrapping around her heart.

 _You're worried about your marriage, and rightly so, but, there's also a child involved. Don't let Hannah Joy anywhere near the explosion._

Kate's eyes drifted closed. Would Rick burst into the house shouting his anger for everyone to hear, heedless of the damage? New tears slid down the curve of her cheeks. After six years, what right did she have to deter him?

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Kate knocked on the door to the loft.

The door opened and Alexis's wide blue eyes bored into her. Kate looked away.

Alexis stepped aside to let Kate in.

Martha hovered near the sofa, the lines on her face were deeper than usual. Kate did not meet her gaze either.

Alexis closed the door carefully and the three women faced each other in silence.

Kate swallowed.

"Come in, Katherine," Martha gestured to the sofa. "Have some wine."

"No wine, Martha, thank you." Kate remained standing, her voice was soft but firm.

She did not want to see the same look of betrayal and anger on Martha and Alexis's faces that pierced her heart on Rick's. _But, I owe them an explanation,_ she resolved to endure their accusations and face the consequences of her selfishness.

She took a deep breath and began. "Tonight, Rick discovered something I've kept from him. Something I should have told him long ago." She should prepare them better, she knew, but the words tumbled from her too quickly. "Hannah is his daughter. We met years ago, and… He didn't recognize me because I looked so different that night."

Martha did not move, but Alexis gaped at her. "What?"

"Hannah is Rick's daughter." She should have prepared them better for this, softened it somehow, but the secret was out, her worst faults exposed, and her marriage….

Only the hum of the kitchen appliances added to the sounds from the streets outside

"Hannah is my sister? My half- _sister_." Alexis voice rose.

Cold sweat trickled down Kate's spine and she stood stiffly and forced herself to meet the young woman's stare. "That's right." Her voice was flat, without any hint of emotion.

"I have a sister, a six-year-old sister." Alexis rose, her brows knotting in fury. "You've _known_ all this time and never said anything?"

There it was, the same outrage, accusation, and betrayal. Next would come anger, hatred…. Divorce. Her insides turned to water and Kate suddenly needed to sit before she fell. Somehow, she stayed on her feet.

No one moved or spoke for a long moment. Kate waited for Martha's censure, which would come next. It was all she deserved after her long silence.

"I've always wanted a sister, my whole life, and now… I find out I've _had_ one, and you never said anything. _Why_ would you keep her from us?"

Martha spoke for the first time. "Why didn't you tell him?"

Kate opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

Martha waved a hand. "I don't mean all those years ago, but… Richard's been working with you for years. Why didn't you tell him then?"

Alexis broke in, her voice shaking. "He _married_ you! You married him without even telling him!"

Kate sank onto the sofa, her hair falling forward as she hid her face in her hands.

"How could you—" Alexis choked and her eyes blazed a passionate blue.

The tears started again. Against Kate's will, they rolled down her cheeks squeezing beneath her palms to plop on her jeans. For a few short weeks, she'd had everything. Now it was over.

"Alexis," Martha interrupted. "I need to speak with Katherine alone. Go upstairs, please." It was not a request.

"The hell I will!" The teenager's fury rose and Kate looked up to see the two face off. "I'm seventeen years old, and I live here too. Whatever you say you can say to…."

"Are you a mother?" Martha broke in. "Have you made mistakes, as a mother, and had your heart ripped out of your chest when you see your child suffering because of those mistakes? Go upstairs, Alexis. Now. Katherine and I need to talk."

Alexis and Kate stared at Martha. Finally, casting Kate a furious look, Alexis tromped up the stairs.

The footsteps faded and a door slammed upstairs; and all was relative silence.

Kate eyed Martha, who gave a deep sigh and gestured to a half-full goblet still in her hand. "I need something stronger than this. Scotch, vodka, or martinis?"

"I'll pass," came Kate's quiet reply.

"Pshhh!" Martha said. "I'm not drinking alone, and you look like you need one, too."

"Vodka then."

Martha nodded and…. Several minutes later, they were seated at the table together, low flames in the fireplace snapping away. Each held a tumbler of vodka on the rocks. Kate barely felt the burn as it ran down her throat, pathetically grateful for its numbing influence. They sat in silence. Finally, Kate felt Martha's gaze upon her.

"How did he take it?" Martha asked softly.

Kate blinked at her. "It was horrible. He found… he found _this_." She withdrew _Kissed and Killed_ from her handbag and slid it toward the older woman. "There are photos inside, and notes."

Martha pulled it closer, examining each photo, one by one. "I knew her at once, you know, at the wedding. Richard looked much the same at that age, square jaw, the eyes… Of course Richard was a tow head and Hannah Joy has your coloring. Her long hair heightens your resemblance."

Kate stared at Martha. "You… _knew?"_

"Of course," she said peering at a photo of Hannah. "I _am_ Richard's mother. No one alive knew him better, or at least, him as a child. Of course I knew." She smiled softly. "Although I didn't actually suspect anything until she jumped into the family portraits at the wedding. That was rather risky, bringing her."

"She wanted to come, to sneak around playing spy."

A whimsical smile crossed Martha's face.

"She just jumped into the photos. _That_ wasn't planned."

"I suppose not. I nearly dragged your father off into the corner for the details, but…" She raised one eyebrow and gave Kate a piercing look. "Martha Rogers doesn't pry—much—and she certainly doesn't _interrogate_ anyone."

Kate had raised her glass to drink but set it down instead. "What do you want to know?" she asked quietly.

Martha sighed. "What's done is in the past. I'm more concerned about the future."

Kate stared into the flames across the room. "The future depends on Rick."

Martha nodded. "And?"

Annoyance flashed over Kate's face. "And… he'll probably want a divorce, or an annulment if he can get one." Her voice was choked and her vision blurred.

"And if he does? What then? Will you fight his claim for paternal rights?" There was an edge to Martha's voice beneath its softness.

"No!" Kate shook her head emphatically. "No, that's the hell of it. I _want_ him to have a relationship with Hannah."

Martha nodded, watching her carefully.

Kate knew she was wanted her to reveal more and suddenly, she didn't care. She was so damn tired of keeping secrets. What was it all for, anyway?

"Martha, if I could go back in time and tell Castle about Hannah from the beginning, I would."

Martha's scrutinized Kate's face. "Why?"

Kate sighed, exasperated. "Isn't it obvious? Because he's an incredible father and Hannah missed out not having him in her life."

Martha waited.

"And, because I can't imagine my life without him." Her voice trailed off and she stared at the gleaming table in silence.

Martha's was very quiet. "What if Richard _doesn't_ want a divorce? What then?"

"If…" Kate's hands convulsed into fists. Her eyes burned and her throat tightened. "Whatever…" she swallowed with difficulty. "Whatever we have to do to rebuild… start again… without any secrets…" she rubbed her face.

Martha waited in silence. "Why?"

Kate lowered her hands, staring at her mother-in-law. "Why do you think? Martha, I wasn't so desperate to get married that I'd have asked just anyone. It's _Castle_. For me, it's just _Rick_ that I want, now and always."

Martha met her gaze and nodded. "And have you said as much to him?"

She shook her head. "I was going to tonight." Her eyes dropped to the tabletop. "No, Martha, I've been so afraid of losing him, I…I never told him how I really felt. I've made such a mess of things. I've ruined everything."

"Maybe not," Martha said thoughtfully.

"Martha?"

"Yes, darling?"

"Why are you being so kind to me?"

"Because my son is so very much in love with you." Martha smiled sadly, reaching for Kate's hand, clasping it in both of hers. "Now, let's talk about Richard. What's your plan, hmm?"

"Plan?"

"For getting him back! Katherine Beckett is not a woman to go down without a fight!"

"Well, no… but… Martha, this is a horrible breach of trust. He's not going to just forgive me and pretend it is a nonissue."

Martha shook her head in agreement. "No, no, he won't. But if you want this marriage to work, you'll need to fight for it. You're going to need to let him know just how very necessary he is in your life, and to what lengths you will go to earn his forgiveness." She met Kate's gaze squarely. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Nothing, I just—I don't think he will ever trust me again."

"Pssh." Martha waved a beringed hand. "One thing at a time. Now, he's with Hannah tonight and will probably stay with her several days. Give him some time. He'll need it. Then, go to him. Wear something sexy, bring a bottle of wine—he likes Châteauneuf-du-Pape—but, most of all, be ready to answer any question, and be ready to lay it out for him. Put _everything_ on the line."

Kate swallowed and nodded.

"Above all," Martha fixed her with her piercing blue gaze. "Be sincere, and be vulnerable."

Kate nodded, thinking carefully. "Martha," she asked at last, "why are you helping me? Why aren't you angry too?"

"Darling," Martha clasped her hand in both of hers, "You are hardly the first person to lie about her child's father, or _to_ that child's father." In her eyes was an ancient sorrow. "And, I would do anything to see my family whole and happy." Martha rose and pulled Kate to her feet, then into her arms. "And that includes _you."_ She held Kate by the shoulders and looked into her face. "Now how _are_ you?"

"Terrible. I thought I'd be glad to have the secret out in the open, but it's like all my worst fears multiplied by ten."

"Oh, I agree. There's not enough vodka in the world for this many secrets." Martha nodded. "You've been through hell, kiddo. Finish your drink and go to bed. No, absolutely not. You're not leaving. You are still Richard's wife and you _belong_ here."

Kate felt a rush of gratitude to her mother-in-law. "I'm not sure Rick or Alexis would agree."

"You leave Alexis to me. Richard won't be home tonight anyway. Go to bed. He knew you had secrets when he married you. Stop being ashamed and start _living!"_

* * *

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	11. Fatherhood

**_July 23, 2017_**

 _Kate Beckett was 19 when her mom died, I was a month shy of my 19th birthday when I lost my dad. Frankly, I was lucky to have him as long as I did. Maybe that's why t_ _his is my favorite chapter, not only do we get to know Jim Beckett better (I love writing him, by the way, but there's a strong daddy theme throughout._

 _Only three more chapter, folks!_

* * *

SITTING IN A TREE, BACKWARDS

Part III

* * *

 _ **Between Storms: Fatherhood**_

 _ **CHAPTER ELEVEN**_

* * *

All was silent and still at Kensington Manor. Hannah was tucked into her bed upstairs while Jim Beckett prowled the front of the house, staring out the window at the soft, white blanket on the ground that grew steadily deeper. The clouds glowed nearly as bright as day, a stark contrast to the distant tree branches, dark and bare against the sky.

He glanced at his watch and sighed. At least another thirty minutes before Rick arrived, assuming Katie's intelligence was correct.

A lone car ambled along the highway, but neither slowed nor turned into the drive. In a moment it disappeared around a bend.

 _Might as well shovel off the sidewalk and steps before…._ Jim pulled his coat out of the closet, thrusting his arms in before fastening it to his throat.

Another set of headlights appeared in the distance, speeding through the night, before slowing at the turn. If Rick were already here, then it was lucky he wasn't in an accident. Jim grimaced and reached for his phone as a silver sedan emerged behind the headlights.

 _He's here,_ he texted Kate.

Her reply was immediate.

 _T Y_

As the BMW rolled to a stop, he slid the phone back into his pocket and stepped away from the window. His eyes wandered around the room, as if looking for help, then slid closed. He stood, hand on the door knob for a long moment. Opening his eyes again, he faced the carved wooden door, debating whether to walk down to meet him in the driveway. _Less awkwardness is better_ , he decided. He waited in the dimly lit foyer, for movement through the faceted glass window of the door.

Rick got out of the car wearing sunglasses. Jim slipped out the door, as he approached, closing it firmly behind him. The porch's deep roof kept it free of snow, and Jim bent over to light a fire in the terracotta chimney.

Keeping his voice neutral, he called out, "Evening, Rick, Have a seat." Jim gestured to the swing, watching and hoping Rick would follow his lead.

Rick paused at the top of the steps, looking over at Kate's father, who gestured at a chair beside his swing. "I'm here to see my daughter," he said.

Jim nodded. "You will, but let's talk for a minute, first."

The corner of Rick's mouth curled downward, and his jaw was set as he headed directly for the door. Jim rushed to block his access, grabbing his arm. "Now, hold— _Unnnhhh!"_

Rick's fist landed squarely on Jim's mandible. He grunted and toppled, landing on his backside. He sat up, wincing.

"Ow," he muttered under his breath, holding his jaw and glaring at Rick's knees. He drew in several deep breaths, and glared at his son-in-law. Rick looked taken aback, as though he couldn't quite believe he'd punched Kate's father.

Various legal repercussions flitted through his thoughts. He thought of Hannah and dismissed them. "Are you through?" Jim snapped.

"I…." Rick swallowed, flustered. He offered him a hand. "Sorry about that."

Jim looked at his hand, sighed, and accepted it as the peace offering it was, and allowed the younger man to help him up.

For a moment, the two stared at each other. Finally, Jim blew out a breath. "You're entitled to be angry, Rick."

"You're damned right I—"

Jim held up a hand to stop him. "Right now, that little girl doesn't know anything about having a father, and if you burst in there _in anger,_ you will forever damage her concept of family relationships." Glaring at his own reflection in Rick's sunglasses was irritating Jim irrationally, and he had difficulty keeping his voice calm. "Hannah Joy knows nothing about this right now, and we're going to keep it that way, _for tonight."_

The hell we will," Rick growled.

"We're going to keep it that way, because that's what's best for _her."_

Rick glared at Jim without speaking.

"Your history with her mother comes second to her well-being. Once you're calm, and we've talked, I won't keep you from her."

Rick rocked back on his heels. "Fine," he answered, then turned away, striding to the porch railing. The chilly breeze ruffled his hair.

The swing creaked as Jim sighed and lowered himself to sit. Neither spoke.

"You wanted to talk, so talk," Rick tossed the words over his shoulder, as he looked over the circular drive.

Jim took a deep breath. "It's Katie who owes you the lion's share of the explanation, but I'm speaking as Hannah's guardian now—"

"That can be changed." Rick turned toward him then, his face lacked its usual warmth.

"What's that?" Jim asked.

Rick's voice was silky soft. "Just because you and Kate have guardianship now doesn't mean you always will." An occasional snowflake found its way under the patio rooftop to land in Rick's hair. "Paternity suites work both ways."

Jim's shoulders tightened and he lifted his head to assess his son-in-law. "Is that what you'll do? Take Hannah from the only family she knows?"

"Fathers have rights, too," Rick bit out. He turned away again, staring out at the snowy night.

Jim let his words hang in the stillness before answering. "If your goal is revenge against Katie that would be an effective place to begin." His voice was low and matter of fact. "But, if this goes into litigation, everyone loses, _especially_ Hannah. Believe me, I've seen it." He gripped his knees tightly, willing to keep his voice even. "Think of what's best for her."

"Yes, what _is_ best for Hannah?" Rick rounded on him. "I don't know what you and Kate were thinking when you deprived her of relationships with people who would've loved her, cared for—"

"You are entirely correct. Katie should've come to you in the beginning. You should've been part of Hannah Joy's life from day one."

"I…" Rick's shoulders slumped and he yanked his sunglasses off, rubbing his eyes.

"It was a mistake, a huge mistake perhaps, and we _will_ progress to rectifying that. But, _tonight_ , you and I will focus on what Hannah _needs_ _._ And that isn't a _war_ between her parents."

Rick drew in several deep breaths. His face was still flushed from cold and emotion, but he seemed calmer.

"She's never had a father, so she's never missed having one, but she loves you, Rick. She's excited about your family being part of hers. She loved spending time with you this weekend. I hope you'll stay a couple of days and spend as much time as possible with her.

"When the time is right, when things are stable between you and her mother, _then_ it'll be time to tell her. But that's a decision the _three_ of us will make _together."_

Rick stepped closer, shoving his sunglasses into his coat pocket.

"Can you agree to that?"

Rick gave a stiff nod. "For now."

Jim nodded slowly and let a breath out, meeting Rick's eyes. His face was solemn as he read the emotions on Rick's face.

"For my part," Jim said softly, "I never knew Hannah was yours until last summer. Kate told me, wondering how to proceed since you were dating your ex-wife. Mable, her grandmother, heard, and tried to force Katie into action by changing her will." Mable…" Jim said carefully, "never could accept that her precious granddaughter was an unwed mother. When she realized Katie in fact _knew_ Hannah's father…."

Without a word, Rick stalked past him and went inside.

His brow furrowed, Jim stared at the floorboards, and shook his head. He'd expected anger, even rage. He hadn't expected the devastation hidden behind sunglasses. He rubbed his jaw again where Rick had punched him, wondering whether to report the conversation to Katie. He sighed deeply. _No, better to stay out of it. Let them patch it up as best they can._

"Ahh, Katie," he whispered. "You've dug yourself a deep one."

* * *

The carpeted stairs muffled Rick's heavy tread. He paused at the landing, standing with his head bowed for a long moment. She was asleep, she had to be asleep by now. It didn't matter whether she slept through his visit or not. He had to be there, _had_ to watch her sleep, to look into the face of the child he and Kate brought into the world, to claim her as his father had never claimed _him_.

Kate—his rage reared its head and he pushed her firmly out of his thoughts. He would keep his anger with Hannah's mother separate for now. While he was with Hannah, he'd be a loving father. The angry husband would reappear _later._

He continued up the steps but hesitated outside her door. Carefully, he eased it open. A rectangle of light fell across the soft gray carpet, a guiding arrow pointing to where Hannah lay, curled in bed.

Still wearing his long, wool coat, he moved to her bedside, stepping around various toys as he did. The moon was just disappearing below the horizon now, the darkness accentuating tiny pinpricks of light glowing from the walls, Glow-in-the-dark-stickers, were carefully arranged in constellations, recreating the night sky. Kate did that for her, he remembered, before pushing her out of his thoughts again.

Hannah Joy lay with her face tilted toward Rick, one hand curled underneath her cheek, the other was bunched around the sheets. Her long dark hair spilled over the pillow, further reminding him of her mother. She was so much like Kate, except where she wasn't. Dimples, that adorable dimpled smile was so much like Alexis's and his own. And… Hannah performing magic tricks. She had stage presence. A true granddaughter of Martha Rodgers.

He knelt beside her bed, staring at his child, tears sliding over his cheeks and falling silently onto the sheet beside his sleeping daughter. He dropped his gloves on the carpet, carefully curving his arm around her pillow to lift a tendril of dark hair, wrapping it around his finger. Bands tightened around his chest. For six and a half years, his little girl was fatherless, like him. _Never again._ Hannah Joy would never again wonder about her father. She'd never need to.

The moments ticked away and still, Rick guarded her sleep. There was no sound from below. Gradually the warmth seeped into Rick's bones. His knees began to ache from kneeling on the carpet, Drowsiness settled over him. A quiet twitter came from the covered bird cage and then was silent. He pillowed his head on the sleeve of his over coat, the other still wrapped around Hannah's pillow.

"Rick."

Jim stood in the doorway. Without speaking, his eyes followed the older man to the corner where Jim wrestled a gliding rocker out from under a menagerie of stuffed animals, wrangling it closer to the bed.

"You might as well be comfortable."

Rick grabbed the arm of the rocker, helping Jim resettle it near the bed. Jim set a quilt on the rocker's arm.

"Katie's room has fresh sheets if you'd rather—"

"No." Rick cut him off. "I'll stay here. Thank you."

Jim nodded his understanding. He was about to leave but hesitated, setting a hand on Rick's shoulder. Neither spoke. Then Jim gave him one last squeeze and left the room.

Rick had just settled into the glider when he noticed Hannah's eyes were open. He remained completely still, not wanting to disturb her.

"Rick?" she asked. "What are you doing here?"

He rose and scooted the chair closer. "I missed you. I wanted to see you."

"Oh," came the sleepy response. "Did Mom come, too?"

Rick hesitated. "No, she had to work." He reached out, taking her hand in his. She squeezed his fingers tightly, and warmth flooded through him. "Would you like a story to help you sleep?"

"What about?"

"How about a princess named Hannah and a king in a faraway Castle." The story shaped itself in his thoughts, how the princess was stolen away from her father—.

"No, thank you. Can you tell me one about you and 'Lexis?"

 _What little girl doesn't want a story about a princess version of herself?_ He wondered. _Kate Beckett's daughter, that's who. Figures._ The corners of his mouth pulled downward. _She probably told her Santa isn't real, too._

Instead, he told a story about when Alexis was very small, how she pretended to have a sister.

"Is it true?" she asked partway through.

"Absolutely," Rick said. "She didn't have one, so she made one up and named her Maybe-ella."

There was a little giggle. "That's a funny name."

Rick smiled. "It is, but she was only three so it's okay."

"'Lexis was three?"

"Mmm hmm."

There was a long silence.

"Are you going to be here in the morning?" She asked at last.

"Yes."

Her eyes brightened. "How many nights?"

Rick wondered how to answer. "How many would you like me to stay?"

She thought for a moment. "Four!"

He grinned. "I'm going to promise two, and we'll take it from there. Deal?"

He heard the smile in her voice. "Deal." She yawned.

"Go to sleep now."

"Okay." A moment later, "Can you come to school and eat lunch with me?"

"Of course."

"Kendra comes and eats with Sammy sometimes, but Mom always has to work."

"Not every mom or dad can do that."

"Uh huh." She gave an enormous yawn and for moments there was no sound but her deep breathing and the occasional creak of a house settling into the cold.

"Rick?" she asked again.

"Yes, sweetie?"

"Why are you sleeping in my chair?"

"Because I'm afraid of the dark."

"Really? Mom is too."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, but I kinda think maybe she's making it up."

"It's hard to imagine her being afraid of anything," Rick agreed.

"Yeah, she is. She's afraid of something happening to me."

Rick nodded. "All Moms worry about their kids."

Her voice was quiet, thoughtful even. "She's scared of somethin' happening to you, too."

"Right, cuz we're partners and catch dangerous bad guys."

"No!" Hannah sat up, apparently wide awake. "That's not it! She's scared of telling you something. I heard her and Papa talking about it while I was supposed to be in bed."

Rick lifted an eyebrow, heavy eyelids widening slightly. "Did she say what it was?"

Hannah lay back down again. "Something about you knowing something—anyway, Mom said it's the worst thing she ever did, but I kinda think having to kill someone is way worse. And sometimes, she has to do that."

"Sometimes she has to," Rick said slowly, "She tries not to, though."

"Do you think it's worse than keeping secrets?"

Bitterness rose, threatening to sweep over him again. "It depends on the secret."

She seemed to accept that and lay back down, lifting her long brown hair out of the way.

"Did your mom and Papa know you were listening?"

Hannah shook her head. "They never let me stay up."

"So you were hiding?"

He could just see the side of her face, but her voice was full of tantalizing mischief. "Yeah, I was playing _spy!"_

Rick wanted to laugh out loud. "You like to play spy do you?"

"Unh huh! It's fun. I like sneaking around in the dark. Sometimes spies have to pretend they're someone they're not and that's fun too, but not as much fun as sneaking around in the dark."

Rick leaned forward intently, "Hannah Joy, have you ever played laser tag?"

The little girl shook her head.

"It's something Alexis and I like to play, it's…. I'll explain later, but it involves sneaking around in the dark with toy laser guns.

"Oooo! Can I play with you?" She was wide awake now.

"Definitely, we will do that together."

"That's so awesome," she whispered.

"It is. Now, it's really late, and you have school tomorrow."

"I know, I know," She grumbled and then gave another enormous yawn. "I gotta go to sleep, but I'm not tired."

"Do you want another story?"

"About you and 'Lexis playing the spy game?"

"No, this one is a calm, quiet story about a princess who was kidnapped and taken away from her father, the king—he lived in a castle, of course, and—"

"Princesses are boring, but the part about the kidnapping sounds cool."

"Princesses are not boring!"

"Yeah, they are. I want a story about a kickass princess. Can she be kickass?"

Rick was taken aback. "Do your mom and Papa know you talk like that?"

"Papa doesn't allow it, but Mom says it sometimes, so I do, too."

"Except when she's around," he surmised.

"Yeah." She half-heartedly agreed, then let out a huge yawn.

Seeing it, Rick hid a smile and pitched his voice lower, deliberately lulling her into sleep. "Once upon a time, in the Kingdom of York, there lived a ruggedly handsome king in a magnificent castle. The king had two beautiful daughters, one whose hair was as red as a sunset, and another whose hair was as black as midnight.

"Why are the princesses beautiful? Mom says it's better to be smart."

"That's true, now don't interrupt."

"The king's daughters were smart as well as beautiful and the eldest grew to become the chancellor over all the land for she had the gift of leadership and wisdom."

"What about the youngest?"

"The youngest," he hesitated, thinking fast. "The youngest had all the makings of a mighty warrior, like her mother."

"That's cool," Hannah whispered around another yawn, her voice growing sleepier.

"The youngest daughter learned to wield a sword, shoot a bow and in time, the king put her in charge of all his armies, for it was clear she was gifted with brains as well as beauty. The king knew that so long as the youngest princess held a sword and commanded the armies, his people were safe."

Rick let his voice grow gradually softer and slower as the story went on. Finally, he fell silent, waiting to see if she was still alert. He leaned his head back and reached for a quilt, tucking it around himself. He sighed.

"Goodnight," Hannah whispered.

"Goodnight, my love."

All was silent.

* * *

Sleeping at the loft without Castle was out of the question. Kate surveyed the bedroom she'd shared with him for such a short period and was filled with a longing and an ache that had nothing to do with their physical relationship. She didn't know whether she would be welcome there again, whether their tenuous marriage would survive the secrets she'd guarded so closely.

She slipped silently into the night to walk the twenty short blocks to her apartment, her head ducked against the snow. She arrived home and dropped her keys on the counter, surveying the disaster of her life, the half-packed boxes. _Rick was so anxious for me to move in with him. Now…._ She wished bitterly to be somewhere else, even Castle's bedroom would be better than here.

Now it was over. It felt like it anyway. All of her careful planning come to naught. Castle was gone, maybe forever. She couldn't blame him. It was unforgivable that she'd kept Hannah Joy a secret for so long.

 _If only I'd told him immediately. If only I'd told him when he started shadowing me…._

But wishes were useless.

She sank onto her sofa, hiding her face in her hands. Sharp pain gnawed at her insides as she saw again his fury and rage, the betrayal that her silence had brought. She pushed herself off the sofa and went to the bedroom. She would run until exhaustion, until she could fall into bed incapable of finding anything but oblivion.

Her plan had only modest success. She fell into bed to sleep only a few short hours, but the memory of the devastation in Castle's eyes roused her in full darkness. The one place she badly wanted to be was lost to her. Castle was with Hannah now, and she would adjust to sharing their daughter's time. Instead she rose, packed a duffel bag with several changes of clothes, and went to the precinct. The clothes were stuffed away in her locker to allow her to work around the clock, if need be.

* * *

Rick awoke the next morning with a crick in his neck and a violent need to pee. The gray light of dawn just eked over the horizon, illuminating a glistening blanket of snow covering everything. Hannah slept on as Rick rose, stifling a groan as he rubbed his neck. The bathroom. He needed the bathroom, and then…. Coffee.

Moments later, he padded down the staircase and ambled into the kitchen to find Jim seated at the table, already dressed and combed, a mug of dark nirvana cradled in his hands as he listened to NPR.

"Morning," Jim said, turning the radio down.

"Morning," Rick answered, feeling self-conscious in his stocking feet and rumpled, slept-in clothes. He paused, rubbing his arms, wondering which cupboard housed the mugs.

Jim seemed to read his mind. "To the right of the microwave."

Rick nodded gratefully and joined Kate's father at the table, his own mug warming his hands.

There was an awkward silence, as Rick observed a puffy, red area on Jim's jaw. He winced and looked away.

"Any plans for the day?" Jim said casually.

"I… yes. I promised Hannah to have lunch with her at school. I'll drive her, maybe spend the morning in her classroom, if they'll let me."

Jim nodded. "Not a problem. School's delayed two hours because of snow, so it'll be a short morning."

A smile broke over Rick's face. "Perfect," he murmured, taking a large swallow of the bitter coffee. He scanned the expanse of white out the window. "Is there a sledding hill nearby?"

Running footsteps broke the flow of the conversation, as Hannah appeared with Chip fluttering after her. "Rick! You're still here!" She ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck.

Rick set his mug down to pull her close, burying his nose in her hair as contentment stole through him. He failed to notice Chip perching on the edge of his mug. "Where else would I be?"

"I don't know... maybe... the city?" she teased, pulling away, her eyes dancing.

"Yeah, well, not today." He leaned back in his chair, frowning at the brightly colored bird on his coffee cup. Chip scooped a beakful of coffee, then flew away scolding loudly while Hannah threw her arms around Jim, and clambered into his lap.

Jim offered her his mug and she shared it with an easy familiarity that cut Rick. That should be him with his daughter in his lap, sharing coffee…. He'd missed so much, so many mornings….

"Hannah," he leaned forward. "I was thinking, let's find a hill for sledding. We can play in the snow, maybe make an igloo. I'll drive you to school later, and stay for lunch."

"An igloo?" she asked, her eyes widening.

"If we can find the right pan in the kitchen."

"Knock yourselves out," Jim invited, smiling slightly.

"Do you have snow pants?"

"I'll go get them!" Hannah slid off Jim's lap, scampering back toward the stairs.

"After breakfast," Jim interrupted firmly.

* * *

It was full dark long before Hannah was tucked into bed, bathed, washed, and intrigued by Rick's promise to French braid her hair for school in the morning. Rick closed the door softly and wandered into the bedroom he'd shared with Kate. He looked around, taking in his suitcase on the dresser, the framed photos of Kate and her parents on the walls, the desk in the corner. He thought longingly of his laptop, wishing he'd brought it.

The grandfather clock struck eight as he wandered into the downstairs room that served as a library. He perused the shelves, noting a well-worn set of Jane Austen's work, Grandmother's favorites by the look of them. When he crouched to read the titles on the lower shelves, a very familiar spine caught his eye, _Heat Wave_ and _Naked Heat._ He pulled it out with a whimsical smile, wondering how it came to be in this particular room. _Did Kate ;eave it here?_ _Certainly, Grandmother didn't sound like the type…. Jim_? The smile slipped a notch as he remembered the steamy sex scenes between Rook and Heat. Did Kate's _father_ read them?

"Ew!" Rick muttered, shoving the books back on the shelf. There was a chuckle behind him. He turned to find Jim holding two drinks.

"Katie wasn't especially thrilled to know I'd read those books, to be honest. "I prefer to imagine some anonymous NYPD detective when I read the more salacious parts. But, I think she's pretty great, so anyone that agrees is all right in my book." Jim gave him a wry smile, and Rick accepted the glass he offered. He moved a _Pirates of the Caribbean_ book bag off an upholstered chair and sat, gesturing for Rick to take its twin.

Rick sat and took a curious sip from the icy tumbler full of dark liquid.

"Is this… _grape Kool-Aid?"_

"On the rocks," Jim shrugged. "I'd offer you something a little more sophisticated, but you probably know why I don't keep it in the house." He leaned back, resting his ankle on the opposite knee. An unused fireplace languished against the far wall, giving the room a masculine feel. He sipped at his Kool-Aid, staring at the glass for a moment. He sighed.

"I've seen a lot of parents lose sight of what's important, parents who use their children to hurt each other." He cleared his throat. "I hope to God you're not planning to punish Kate by taking Hannah—"

Rick lowered his glass and straightened in his seat. "My _plan_ is to raise my daughter, and _no one_ is going interfere with that again." He gave Jim a level stare. "Litigation or not, I won't be satisfied with less than half time, and I want her enrolled in school near me."

"I thought you'd say that." Jim nodded gravely, staring at the floor in silence. The lines of his face seemed deeper somehow. "Let's start with weekend visits."

Rick sat up a little straighter and leaned forward and he stated very clearly, "I've no intention of being a _weekend_ father."

Jim held up one hand. "Let's start with weekend visits for _now_. "Hannah needs a transition period. Once school is out, she can spend longer periods with you." If everything goes well, and we _all_ are in agreement, there's no reason she can't start school in New York this fall." Jim eyed Rick, noting his lingering frown.

Grimacing, Rick leaned back, swirling his Kool-Aid before taking a swig. "Kate and I may not be together by then."

"I understand," Jim said heavily. The lines on his face deepened, and his gaze dropped to the floor. "You and Katie will have to work out the details."

Rick gave a bare nod, staring moodily into his glass.

He set his tumbler down on a nearby coaster and steepled his fingers.

When Jim spoke again, his voice took on a lower, melancholy tone. "Parenthood is a series of heartbreaks, Rick," he said slowly. "You raise a child from total dependence, and she becomes the most important part of your life. But the day comes when she leaves home, and you think she doesn't need you anymore, and your work is done. Then one day, she comes home again, bringing a treasure with her." He met Rick's gaze. "Hannah Joy." His voice softened on Hannah's middle name, drawing it out.

Rick nodded.

"The first time around as a dad, you're establishing a career and your daughter sometimes comes second. But when the second chance comes, you're ready to do it right and put that baby first. Nothing else matters." He absently swirled his drink in his glass. "Then someone new comes along with a previously unknown prior claim, and you're letting go all over again, but sooner than you planned." He sighed and sipped his Kool-Aid. "It's enough to make you want to pick up the bottle again."

"Hannah—"" Rick began but Jim held up a hand to stop him, shaking his head.

"It's about Hannah, and what's best for her. For me, that's what this has always been about." Jim set his empty glass on an end table, and caught Rick's eye. "For the record, I'm glad you're here, and that Hannah has you in her life now. Nothing could please me more than to see her establish healthy relationships with you and your family, even if that means she no longer lives with me here."

Jim leaned forward. "Know this, I'm on _Hannah's_ side, and I'm going to do everything in my power to see that you and Hannah get the kind of relationship you've missed out on, Now, I'm looking forward to playing _Grandfather_ , and spoiling her rotten, but she needs a transition period. To be honest, I need that transition as much as Hannah. I hope you can give us that."

Rick stared at his father-in-law in silence. "Of course," he answered at last.

A heavy sigh escaped Jim's lips as he collapsed back into his chair, a brief smile on his lips, but worry still lined his face. "I just hope you and Katie can work things out, that the three of you can make a family together. That's what I'm gunning for. Partly for Hannah, but as much for Katie." His gaze lingered on Rick's face. "She loves you, you know. I saw it years ago."

Rick heard him out in silence. "If she loves me so much," he finally said, bitterness sharpening his voice, "then how could she keep Hannah from me for this long? Why didn't she tell me?"

Jim opened his mouth to speak, but reached for his glass instead, rattling the ice cubes as he stared into their depths. "You're asking the wrong person," he said at last.

* * *

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	12. Interrogation

**_July 23, 2017_**

 _Ugh! This is a tough one, but so necessary. No one's happy._

 _Two chapters left. Will they make it?_

* * *

SITTING IN A TREE, BACKWARDS

Part III

* * *

 _ **Interrogation**_

 _ **CHAPTER TWELVE**_

* * *

The precinct was empty of all but the most essential staff. All the offices and lounges lining the bull pen were vacant, the lights off except for in the halls and over Beckett's desk. She worked tirelessly, pouring over unsolved after unsolved murder, scribbling notes on which leads to double check, and where to go deeper, once decent people were answering their phones again.

Roberta, the custodian, slowly moved up and down the halls with Moe the motorized mop machine, or so Castle had dubbed it during an all-nighter long ago. Kate had no better term for it, didn't much care either, just so long as it didn't keep her from working.

The hours passed, Roberta's night crew emptied trash, dusted fixtures and otherwise cleaned around her. (She slid her chair out of the way so they could sweep under her desk, but otherwise ignored them.) The evening was punctuated by occasional bouts of stale, acidic coffee that no one drank anymore, brewed in the ancient coffee maker that predated her time at the 12th. Finally, even the custodial staff had moved on and the quiet was near total. She glanced at her watch. Having reached an end of possible leads, she closed the unsolved she'd been pouring over and reached for a new one. The families of these victims deserved answers, and since she couldn't sleep anyway—

"Beckett."

She froze. It was _his_ voice.

She was exhausted, imagining things. She reached for the file again.

 _"_ _Beckett."_

She wasn't.

Slowly, Kate raised her head, her mouth falling open. He stood just inside the bullpen, waiting for her. Her heart pounded in her chest. She wanted to run to him, bury her face in his neck, feel his arms around her…. But his face was cold and distant. Clearly, making-up wasn't on his mind.

He wore the same long, cashmere overcoat he'd left her apartment in two nights ago and his face was flushed with cold. Or was it anger? There was no softness, no kindness anywhere in his face as she rose to walk uncertainly toward him. He gave one decisive nod before turning his back, leading her down the hall. He pushed open a door, allowing her to enter before him, like the gentleman his mother taught him to be.

She stopped in the open doorway. _Seriously? There are interview lounges and private offices everywhere, but you want to talk_ here?

His face was implacable, so she set her jaw and proceeded into the room used to interrogate hostile and potentially dangerous suspects or known criminals. She avoided looking at the one-way mirror, or the manacles threaded through a hole in the interview table.

The door clicked closed with a finality that made her shiver as she faced him. He methodically let down the blinds over the mirror, and stared up at the video recording equipment mounted over the door.

"It's powered down for the night, and no one is here to listen," she told him softly.

"Is that right?" He picked up a chair, turning and lifting it over his head by the back and smacked the camera with its legs. Shattered casing pieces rained onto the floor.

 _What the hell are you doing?_ She wanted to yell at him as he came toward her. Instead, she moved quickly out of his way. The second camera soon hung by a wire.

She leaned against the far wall, the table between them, trying to hide the fear that turned her insides to ice. She tucked her fingers under her arms to warm them.

Castle set the chair down carefully, pushing it back under the table. Cold, gray eyes impaled her with dread.

 _Who is this?_ This man was a stranger to her, a side of Castle she'd never met before. There was a long silence. She knew the technique, often used it herself, letting silence and pressure build until someone felt compelled to say something. Usually something revealing. Her chest had a fiery ache in the center even as her cop's instincts analyzed his approach.

"How's Hannah?" she finally asked, not knowing what response she expected in return.

"I'll ask the questions, thank you." His eyes bored into hers, but she gave him no reaction, waiting for him to play his hand.

 _He wants to control, to dominate._ She ducked her head slightly. _What can I possibly do or say to move past this?_

The answer was in the hurt in his eyes, and the angry set of his jaw. She'd created this situation, directed the path that brought them here. _If he's going to punish me for it, it's no less than I deserve._ Or did she? _I am your_ wife _not a criminal. If you value our relationship at all, you'll take this conversation somewhere else._

Biting her lip, she turned away, unwilling to meet his gaze. Exhaustion warred with her emotions until they roiled almost out of control.

Tears stung her eyes. _No, I won't lose control, not here, not like this._

Finally, he spoke. "I asked myself, why you would keep our daughter a secret from me all this time. All I can imagine is that either you didn't believe Hannah needed a father, or you didn't trust me to muck around in your personal life. Either way, it's selfish, incredibly selfish." His eyes were cold.

"Do you realize you not only deprived Hannah of a relationship with her father, sister, _and_ grandmother," pausing before each naming, "but also a grandfather?" He had begun so quietly, but now his voice raised, cutting viciously through the air with each word. "Your dad is so busy taking on _all_ of our roles, including _yours,_ that his own role of _grandfather_ is vacant." He shook his head and turned away.

Kate bit her lip, not speaking. She'd wanted Hannah to be safe and have the safety and freedom of the country, but she'd never considered the depth of that sacrifice.

"That isn't even the worst of it," he continued when she made no answer.

Her brow furrowed, she dreaded what came next.

His voice was quiet. "I trusted you. We were partners, friends. _Friends!_ For _two years_ I have followed you, worked with you, saved your life, risked my own, and why? Because of what we could—" he broke off. "Because of everything we could be together." He took a step closer, planting each fist and leaning over the table. "You came to me, in spite of _everything I didn't know_ , and you had the _audacity_ to ask me to marry you, without telling me anything about _our_ daughter or even that you had a daughter at all." He straightened. "What the hell, Kate?"

Her teeth gripped her lower lip so tightly, she expected to taste blood. Still, she made no answer.

He prowled around the table, never taking his eyes off her. He leaned one hip against it. "Tell me," he said conversationally, "after keeping her a secret for so long, why didn't you destroy the evidence? I never would've known."

 _All he needs to know,_ her father's voice had whispered to her just ten days ago, _is that Hannah's father is out of the picture._

Tears stung at her eyes, threatening to spill over. She shook her head.

 _You don't have to tell him that part,_ Katie.

"You could've even let me think I was _adopting_ her, and put my name on the birth certificate," Rick continued.

 _Keeping the truth from him is the biggest mistake I ever made._ So, she'd told her father, who'd smiled approvingly. "No, I couldn't." she met Rick's gaze, her voice strengthening with conviction.

He crossed his arms waiting for her to continue.

"I couldn't keep this secret forever, Rick. She needs to know; _you_ needed to know. It would've…" her voice trailed off and her tongue darted out moistening her swollen lower lip. "It would've destroyed me to continue keeping it."

The only sounds were the hum of the overhead lights, and the faint tick from her father's watch on her wrist.

He sneered. "And yet it destroyed our marriage just as we were getting started."

Kate flinched and turned, hiding the tears that spilled over her face.

He turned to leave, yanking the door open. Fragments of video camera skittered across the floor toward her.

"Rick!"

He hesitated on the threshold, neither looking back nor moving forward.

She faced him, no longer hiding her tears or anguish. "Don't go."

"Give me a reason to stay."

She drew a deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut, reached back through the years to the earliest truth she'd hidden from him. Her voice was low, rough from suppressed emotion. "I wanted to tell you, almost from the beginning." Somehow, it was easier talking to his back.

He turned toward her before carefully closing the door. He stared at it in silence.

"I didn't because you inserted yourself into my work in such an annoying and intrusive way that—"

"You're losing ground here!" he bit out, glaring at her. Her knees gave way and she leaned against the wall.

 _"_ _At first,_ I just didn't want you to know how… how much…" she closed her eyes again, struggling.

She heard the rustle of his movement and knew he was waiting for her to continue. She slid slowly down the wall to the floor. "I—I've never been good at sharing personal details." She took a deep breath.

"You kept my daughter from me," he hissed. "You don't get to use that excuse."

She glared back at him. "And you're not helping."

"Fine." He yanked a chair out and sat on it, backwards. He folded his arms across the back. "Talk," he commanded.

Kate drew in a shaky breath and let it out as she drew her knees to her chest. "I told you about… Dad's alcoholism, how he sank into…. It was bad. He barely functioned. I thought he was going to lose his job, his career. I held things together for him for a while, but I was just enabling him. I moved out, got my criminal justice degree, and went through the Academy as soon as I could. I was 21." The words spilled out of her, knowing it wasn't what he was looking for, but somehow, she needed to tell him her story, all the silent thoughts he'd wondered about but of which she'd never spoken.

"You know Mike Royce was my training officer, but he was also my rock for those first two years on the force. He gave me the emotional support I needed, while I searched for the missing piece to Mom's murder."

He shifted his feet, staring at the floor.

"I fell in love with him, Rick." Her voice was soft, almost inaudible.

His head snapped up and he watched her.

"But he never saw me that way. Montgomery started training me to investigate homicides over at the 18th precinct, but I was still in love with Royce." She met his gaze. I saw him that night, the night we made Hannah. I wanted to look sexy, especially for him. I thought that since we were no longer working together, maybe…" she took a deep breath. "But I came out of the bathroom to find him flirting with sorority girls."

"I gather this is before you went all _Dia de los Muertos."_

"Yes, I went to the Day of the Dead festival on the way home, and it transformed me in a way I never expected." She rose to her feet, her voice stronger as she approached him. "I can't begin to explain how that night changed my life, Rick, and not just because of Hannah. I was so low when I left Royce at the club, but at the festival, I realized I had to _live_ , and not just to solve my mother's death, but to _live_ the life she'd given me. And Hannah, I named her after someone I met that night, Hannah _Allegria,_ Hannah _Joy._

"Then I met you, and you were so damned sexy…. I don't do that, Rick. I don't meet a guy and immediately go to bed with him. I did with you. And it was _great!"_ She reached out, almost brushing his cheek with her fingertips, but he drew back. That night was everything I needed in more ways than I can explain. "It meant so much more to me than making a baby together, or being with you. That was the first time I crawled out of my mother's murder and began to _live_ again." Her eyes dropped to the floor again as she considered her words.

"When I found out I was pregnant, I… I thought about contacting you through a lawyer or your publisher. Then, one day, I opened the paper and saw photos of you with Gina." She made a face. "I thought maybe you were with her the whole time, or maybe it was a new relatio—"

He drew back, his voice cutting across her, "I never cheated on Gina, _or_ Meredith."

She smiled slightly and nodded. "I followed your romance in the paper, combed the internet for pictures of your wedding. You looked happy—"

"Don't even tell me that—You _didn't_ leave me in the dark because of _Gina!"_

"No, it was Dad, _then_. After he found out about Hannah, well, he… finally sobered up. He went through treatments, went to _AA_ meetings. He was present in my life for the first time since Mom died, and I didn't want… I was afraid maybe if Hannah's dad were in the picture, that he would lose his motivation, and fall back into the addict's cycle."

"Does _he_ know that?"

"No."

"Did you tell him about me?" He watched her closely.

She shook her head. "Not until last summer, long after you showed up again." She took a deep breath and stepped nearer. "Castle, I'm sorry. At first, I thought you were a player, a playboy, and I told myself Hannah didn't need a father like that."

His face twisted and his voice was tightly controlled when he spoke. "And then?"

"And then, I was so irritated with you for showing up again, for not _remembering_ me, and for following me around… I wasn't about to admit I'd _already_ slept with you."

"Fine, I can accept that for the first six months." His chair banged and skidded across the floor as he jerked to his feet, moving to place the table between them. "Now, look me in the eyes and tell me how you spent _the last two years_ working side by side with me, seen me as a father to Alexis, and _continued_ to keep Hannah a secret," His voice raised slightly at the end as he planted his palms on the table top, breathing heavily as he glared at her.

She stared at him, her lower lip again caught between her teeth. "I couldn't bring myself to tell you. I wasn't ready to face that my feelings for you were changing," she admitted, looking him straight in the eye. "Every time I thought of telling you, I'd get this horrible feeling of laying my heart bare only to…." She swallowed, lowering her gaze.

"Only to what?" he repeated softly.

"Only to have the _Tom Demming fiasco_ repeat itself."

He stared at her frowning "I don't know what you mean." But, the stiffness in his shoulders relaxed somewhat and he straightened, listening carefully.

"You invited me to go the Hamptons Memorial Day weekend."

He nodded. "You had plans with Demming."

She shook her head sadly. "Only, I canceled my plans and broke up with Tom, thinking…."

His eyes were huge, his mouth agape. "You're making this up."

She frowned at him. _"No._ I broke up with Tom because I wanted to go with you to the Hamptons after all."

He stared at her, disbelieving. "With me?"

"With you."

He stared at her for a long moment, a complicated look on his face.

"Only _Gina_ showed up. And I realized you were dating her. _Again."_

"You broke up with Demming _before Memorial Day Weekend?"_

She looked him straight in the eye. "Yes."

He stepped back, stumbling into the chair behind him. He barely noticed. "So all last summer, you were…?"

She shrugged. "Single, available…" she swallowed with difficulty before whispering, "missing you."

He swallowed. "Do you ever wonder how our lives would have been different today if… we'd…."

Their gazes locked and her voice was soft and low. "All the time."

He nodded, cleared his throat, and continued on. "Then what happened? You started dating Josh, I suppose."

"Eventually."

"Yes, but what I don't understand is how it went with _Josh."_

She shrugged. "There's not much to tell. "Josh and I met, we enjoyed each other's company for a while."

"But, you discussed marriage with him."

She stopped and faced him. "It came up because of the inheritance issues." She gave a half-shrug. "We kicked the idea around."

"What was the deal killer?"

"He wasn't _you."_ She answered his question so simply and directly it took his breath away. For a moment he couldn't speak. He stared into her eyes.

"What do you mean?"

She lifted one shoulder defensively. "I mean that… even though he was willing, I didn't want to marry him."

Their eyes met. The only sound was the soft hum of the heating system. She took a step closer, slowly raising a hand to slide it over his chest when his voice stopped her.

"You still haven't told me why it took so long after our marriage to reveal that _we_ have a daughter."

She nodded slowly and stepped away. "I wish I had a better answer for you, Rick, one that makes everything okay and…" she swallowed, "One that could satisfy you, but… When you left for the Hamptons last summer with Gina on your arm, I… I thought everything was one-sided, that you were a player and I'd been played; the most I could ever hope for was friends with benefits. When I asked you to marry me, I thought… I thought if you accepted, it would be for bedroom privileges or maybe to do me a favor, _in name only."_

He frowned. _"Bedroom_ privileges? Really?"

"That's what I thought."

"Kate—" His voice was low, yearning for something…

"And… then I had a ring on my finger before I could absorb just what was happening."

He stared at her in silence, arms crossed.

"You have no idea how happy I was, Rick, to realize that maybe we could have something _real._ "

His face softened, and for a moment it looked as if he were going to kiss her, or slide his arms around her, or kiss the tears out of her eyes, or make love to her…. An errant lock of hair hung over his forehead, and she reached out to brush it back. He caught her wrist, _"This_ isn't _real,_ Kate." He gently pushed her away. "What we've had is a lot of sex, secrets and lies." He sounded weary.

She froze, staring into his exhaustion-lined face, suddenly chilled. _Is that how he sees our marriage?_ "I—I was ready to tell you, to explain, but…."

"When? Last night?"

She nodded.

"I figured that must have been your plan." He walked away, shoving his hands into his pockets, he surveyed the wreckage of the video cameras.

Her heart pounded in her chest and her legs felt watery as she stared at him, remembering the undisguised weariness in his voice. _What can I say to him?_ She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, oblivious to the tears running down her cheeks. _The story, finish telling him your story._

She nodded, "When you left with Gina for the summer last year—"

He frowned. " _Gina? Again?"_

"I _thought_ she was your true love! That you would reconcile and remarry eventually. I waited to tell you because… because I didn't want to cause trouble in your relationship with her." She let out a deep breath, her shoulders slumped and she felt wrung out. She pushed her hands into her hair. "That's what I told myself anyway."

"Kate…" The complicated look was back. "That is complete and utter _bullshit_. You're telling me that you kept our daughter secret from me for six years because… you worried that _Gina_ would be upset? What about _our daughter?_ What about what's right for her? Who gives a fuck what Gina thinks? Better to have it out in the open than to surprise her with it after the wedding, like you surprised me!" He walked away, shaking his head.

"My God, Kate, what were you thinking?" He spun to face her, gesturing wildly. "It's like I don't even know you. You _always_ advocate for truth, Kate, _truth_ and justice for the victim, for the victim's family. Where's _my_ truth? Don't I deserve honesty and openness from my _wife?_ We've been married four weeks, and I find we had a secret daughter together, only you… _never_ … told me."

Her face was drawn and pale as she stared at him.

"How in the hell are we supposed to move on after this? After this breach of trust?"

She held her hands out helplessly. "I don't know." She shook her head. "I just know that…" she swallowed hard. "You are every bit… I can't imagine my life without you in it, and that whatever happens, I want to make this work."

"After you lied to me, and schemed and… for the love of God, Kate, you had Hannah running around at our _wedding_ pretending to be a spy! And once I finally knew the truth, you had the nerve to _tell your dad_ not to let me tell her, because it was better that she not find out _in anger!"_ He made air quotes around the last two words.

"Rick, I told him you were coming, I didn't—"

"And why in the hell wouldn't you answer my questions about Josh _before_ the wedding?"

Kate was silent. "I'm sorry, Castle," she finally whispered.

"What? Is that all you have to say? _'I'm sorry?'_ "

"What do you want me to do? I've told you the truth, _all_ of it. I _am_ sorry, and I deeply regret not coming to you from day one, even though you were with someone else, and… I don't know why I didn't, but it was…" she shook her head. "It doesn't matter. I can never undo it."

He quit pacing and stood directly in front of her. "That's right. You can never undo it. I missed the entire first six and a half years of her life because of decisions _you_ made. I missed her first smile, her first steps, dumping her peas on the floor, her tantrums and the chance to be her _go-to-guy_. You can never bring that back, no matter how much you regret or how sorry you are; it's gone."

"Castle, _Rick,"_ she pleaded, reaching for him, but he rounded on her.

"I wanted a family with you," His face was flushed and he gestured emphatically. "Now you're telling me that I missed it, that _our daughter_ has never known me as _her father,_ that she's been growing up _fatherless!"_ He choked. "Like _I did,_ and all this time, you've let me work side-by-side with you. You've _known_ what Alexis means to me, and you _never told me!"_

Tears left silvery tracks down her cheeks, like scars, and she stood silent and mortified, hating herself.

She squeezed her eyes shut, but she couldn't block out the sound of his footsteps or the door slamming closed behind him. Her lips formed his name but no sound came. She knew in the depths of her exhausted heart that her worst fears were real, that she'd done the unforgivable.

He was gone. The room was empty but for the remains of audio visual equipment scattered across the floor.

* * *

 _Oh Dear. That didn't go well at all did it?_

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* * *

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	13. Closing Doors

**_July 24, 2017_**

One more chapter...

* * *

SITTING IN A TREE, BACKWARDS

Part III

* * *

 _ **Closing Doors**_

 _ **CHAPTER THIRTEEN**_

Alone at last in Interrogation II, Kate's knees gave out and she slid down the corner to huddle in misery. Biting her lip, Rick's footsteps were just audible as he walked away. Her arms wrapped around her midsection. Her forehead dropped onto her knees and she wept. It must have been an hour that she sat in relative silence, her head tipped back against the walls, her eyes closed. _He's not coming back,_ she told herself. _Go, get up. Do something. Don't let anyone find you like this._

* * *

Kate's face haunted him. Her lips pressed tightly together, full of self-recriminations. He frowned. Damn right she had regrets! How could she expect him to accept this? How could she offer excuse after excuse and expect him to forgive her deceptions?

He gulped at the wine he had liberated from his mother, barely tasting it as he relived the scene in interrogation just an hour ago. The wine sloshed in his glass as he set it down and yanked at the ring on the third finger of his left hand. It came easily, and he squeezed it tightly in his fist, resisting the urge to hurl it across the room. He was done. It was over. Trust was destroyed. There was no going back. Some things just can't be forgiven.

He dropped the ring onto the shiny surface of his desk and rubbed his hands over his face. He pushed himself out of his chair as his mother approached, a tumbler in either hand.

"Here you go, Richard." She lifted a glass in his direction as she sat on the living room sofa. "Scotch."

He shook his head as he approached, reaching for the glass. "Thanks, but I'm driving."

"It's three in the morning! Whatever it is can wait—"

"Except it really can't." Rick took a swig of the Scotch and set it down. "I promised Hannah I'd French braid her hair in the morning. I can't do that _here_."

"Richard—"

"No, mother, I'm going back tonight."

She frowned at him.

"I've missed too much, I'm not going to start things out by disappointing her. I only came back for a few things."

She waved her hand and her voice took on an edge of command. "Sit down. We're not through talking."

He frowned at his watch but sat on the edge of the sofa. "You have ten minutes."

Martha waited for his stormy gray eyes to rest on her.

"What?" He demanded.

Martha drew a deep breath. "Katherine was wrong to keep these secrets for so long, there's no denying it. But," Martha leaned forward to rest a hand on her son's shoulder, "she's given you a gift, Richard. She could've kept Hannah's paternity from you indefinitely, let you think of yourself as a stepparent, and, I must say, maintained a good deal more control over Hannah's life. By telling you, she's risked all kinds of problems. For one thing, she's stuck with you."

"I don't follow you."

"Before, she could've cut you out of her life at any time, and never had to deal with a difficult ex. Now that you know, she can't do that. You have options, like suing to get your name on the birth certificate. Once there, you can demand visitation or _custody!_ " Martha's eyes glittered as she held her son's gaze. "Except, do you really _want_ to go down that road? Do you really want _another_ ex to squabble over visitation with?"

Rick stared at the carpet, the lines on his forehead deepening.

Martha lowered her voice and leaned toward him. "Katherine has given you another opportunity to be a father, Richard. She's given you a beautiful little girl, and she very much wants to share this adventure with you."

"Mother," He shook his head. "How can I trust her? How can I know she isn't hiding other things from me?"

"You can't." Martha held his gaze with her own. "But consider _why_ she risked telling you about Hannah's paternity."

He sighed. "She wanted Hannah to have the relationship with me Alexis does."

"And?"

The candles on the coffee table flickered and danced, offering what little light there was in this part of the room. "Supposedly, she couldn't live with the secret any longer."

Martha leaned forward. "That's right. She couldn't live with keeping that secret. She made the wrong decisions in the past, we all know this, but she's taking steps to _rectify_ those decisions now. What do you think it cost her to have you leave like that, to go to Hannah, and not be part of that? What do you think it costs Jim, not to meddle?"

"What did it cost _her?"_ He scowled at his mother. "What about me? I lost six and a half years of my daughter's life that I can never get back! I'll never—"

"That's right! You'll never get it back. It doesn't matter how you punish Katherine for her mistakes, you'll never get one minute of that time back." She squeezed his knee. "Move _forward,_ Richard. It's time to decide what the future will be. Either you are going to forgive and form a family, or hold grudges and leave someone behind who has meant a great deal to you."

Martha sat back finally, watching her son rise to stare into the darkness of his office. His wedding ring was just visible on the empty desk.

Her voice was soft. "Hannah, as precious as she is, is a consequence of your lifestyle, and it's time to face that you may have other children out there you still don't know about."

"I know that." His tone was flat and without emotion, but he looked shaken.

Martha sighed, watching him in silence.

He turned away from the office, moving instead toward the baby grand piano. The lid was closed, as usual, with the usual assortment of family photos smiling back at him. Jim and Johanna Beckett's portrait still resided with their own family collection; he'd welcomed the addition on their wedding day. Now Rick turned it face down, and reached for the smallest frame, the one of Alexis at about four and him, walking in the fall leaves in Central Park. Just two years younger than Hannah is now. Her face swam in his thoughts. All those years, all those memories that he'd never have with Hannah: the first smile, first steps, first day of school…. His chest felt tight as he struggled to contain the loss. His face crumpled and he drifted over to press a palm against the doorframe of the office, head bowed.

"What if you two were to step back and start again?"

There was no response.

"Richard," she stopped. Her eyes fell to her lap where she'd twisted the fabric of the satin kimono she wore. She smoothed it out before moving toward him. Sliding her arms around his waist, she held him, pressing her cheek against his back. Neither moved. "Goodnight. Darling." She whispered finally, planting a kiss on his shoulder.

He covered her frail hands with his, their fingers briefly entwining. "Goodnight, Mother," he said, very softly.

Mother's words still echoed in his thoughts as he pushed the door to Alexis's room open. A small desk fan whirred in the corner, as it did every night. The pale light from the window did little to illuminate the sleeping form bundled under a poofy comforter, but the slice of light from the doorway fell across her face, turning her hair strawberry blond in the dimness.

The door jamb creaked slightly as he leaned against it, taking in every detail. He'd raised her all on his own and it never ceased to amaze him how she'd turned out. Overwhelmed by memories, he moved closer to brush the hair away from her forehead, glimpsing the adorable pout. He loved being a father from the first moment, and every stage with its unique trials and challenges brought its own joy. He'd never knowingly miss that.

He saw again her cherubic grin as she threw her arms around his legs, holding tightly to him. Then again, at six, the same age as Hannah, carefully standing on his toes, holding tightly to his hands as he moved them around the room in a slow waltz. The night he'd fallen asleep on the sofa, only to awaken as she struggled to cover him with a blanket from her bed. He'd helped pull the fuzzy blanket over him, expecting her to return to her own room. Instead, he felt her soft hands on either side of his face and heard her childish voice whisper, "I'll love you fow always, I'll like you fowevew…."

Rick shook his head. _I always swore I'd be around for my kids. But… how many others are out there?_ He sighed and turned away. One last glimpse of Alexis, and he left the room, easing the door shut behind him. His footsteps fell heavily on the stairs as he retraced his way to the main floor. _There's no excuse for not telling me a year ago, certainly not before our wedding._

 _Can trust be rebuilt?_ His mother's words echoed in his thoughts.

After all this deceit? Another woman's face clouded his thoughts, Meredith and her unending lies covering her affairs. He shook his head. _Never again._

He glanced at his watch, frowning. He eased Alexis's door closed, returning to his bedroom where a small duffel bag lay open on the bed. He finished stuffing extra clothes inside, pausing only to search a drawer for Laser Tag gear small enough to fit Hannah. Unsuccessful, he zipped the bag and hefted it. He stared in silence around the room. Kate's jacket still lay across the back of the settee. Briefly, he contemplated packing the few possessions she'd left behind into a box and returning them to her. His belly clenched, and a raw ache centered in his chest, squeezing tightly until he gasped for breath, his eyes closed.

 _Not tonight._

Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he slowly turned, drawn inexorably to stand in the doorway to his office, staring at the wedding band still lying in the middle of his desk. The silvery white gold glinted in the light, giving it warmer tones. He moved toward it, almost without realizing. Finally, he picked it up, squeezing tightly. Complicated emotions washed over him as his mother's words came back to him. _Is this a deal killer?_

* * *

At length, Kate roused herself and disappeared into the bathroom to splash cold water on her face and repair what little makeup wasn't smeared across her cheeks. Her heart felt like a hot stone in her chest, bleeding out, crying for Rick. But he was gone and would likely never be back. She was alone again, just her and Hannah. And Dad. Dear, sweet Dad. She longed to disappear for a few days with her daughter, go someplace fun like…. Her thoughts shied away from beaches. Beaches reminded her of the Hamptons and their Caribbean honeymoon.

 _The mountain cabin, the perfect getaway._

Only now she had to coordinate Hannah's time with Rick.

 _I could go alone._ She shook her head. _God no._ She needed distraction from her heartbreak. She'd have to talk to Rick—

Thoughts of him seized her attention and she gasped, keening slightly as she remembered how she'd anticipated bringing Hannah and Rick to the mountain haven together, as a family.

Desperately, she shook her head, struggling to be free of the heartache.

 _Time to get back to work._ She left the room, letting the door bang shut behind her. She'd solve a murder, give someone answers to their personal tragedy. Then… maybe then she'd feel brave enough, strong enough, to face her own.

* * *

Rick stood in the silence and shadows of his office, staring at the ring in his open palm. Its brushed surface reflected the warm glow of a lamp nearby. His brows knit as he spotted tiny characters circling the inside of the ring where his finger normally blocked them from sight.

 _What? An inscription?_ Turning it in his hands, he read the two short words.

 _All in_

"Hunh."

He set it back down and went to the window bench in the corner of his office. _What an odd thing to engrave on a wedding ring._ The lid opened with a creak and he rummaged through miscellaneous fencing gear and board games, All the while, his thoughts gnawed at the inscription Kate had chosen for his ring.

 _I'm in. I'm_ all _in! I hold nothing back for myself!_ Suddenly, memories from another day broke into his thoughts, flooding him with echoes of that final case they worked before their wedding, and a long-winded minister, ranting from his hospital bed. What was it he'd said?

The words came back to him. _You want to make something work? Put everything you've got in, hold nothing back._ Rick swallowed hard, remembering the rest, _I'm in. I'm_ all _in! I hold nothing back for myself!_

Rick rocked back on his heels, remembering the passion in Reverend Lauer's eyes. Soon after, they'd gotten their marriage certificate, and… Kate had shopped for his ring.

 _I'm in. I'm_ all _in! I hold nothing back for myself!_

Rick frowned, reconsidering. Clearly, Kate had Lauer's impassioned speech on her mind that day.

 _You want to make something work? Put everything you've got in…._ … _hold nothing back._

New emotions rose in his chest and he stood, frozen. His cheeks burned and he gasped, biting a knuckle. Was this another deception to make him trust her again?

… _hold nothing back._

 _What is she saying?_ he wondered.

He paused, the strap of a pint sized Laser Tag harness grasped tightly in his hand as his thoughts churned. _Why did Kate choose those words to inscribe on my wedding band?_

He turned in silence, staring at the desk where his ring lay, abandoned.

 _Aw, Hell._ Rick strode back and snatched it off his desk.

"Kate Beckett, what the hell am I going to do with you?" he muttered as he jammed it back on his finger.

* * *

The next evening, Kate was mostly frozen by the time her father's car appeared through the swirling snow and pulled up beside her on a deserted street in Shrivenham. She hefted an overnight bag onto her shoulder and jumped in, stuffing the bag at her feet.

"Thanks for getting me, Dad."

"You made the right decision, Katie, leaving the Harley home when it's snowing like this." He thrust a thermos in her hands. "Here, have some hot coffee."

She inhaled gratefully, wrapping her hands around the stainless steel travel mug. She drank deeply, her eyes drifting closed. "Thanks."

Black, the coffee was strong and black, just the way Dad always made it. He didn't even keep cream or flavoring syrup in the house. Her lips twitched as she wondered how Castle coped with such substandard coffee.

"What's going on at home?" she asked, cranking the heat up.

"Rick was getting Hannah to bed. They went up just before I left."

"Does he know I'm coming?"

He cast her a sideways glance. "No." His jaw was tight and he drove in silence for several moments. "I hope the two of you are going to have it out—"

"We already did." Her voice was low, abrupt.

Jim shot her another look but did not pry.

She stared at the blackness beyond the window, nodding absently. They rode in silence for several minutes before Kate spoke again.

"Castle came to see me last night at the precinct and—"

"Last night?" Jim asked, his voice sharper than normal.

"Yeah, he got there about… I don't know. Midnight maybe."

Jim sighed. "That explains why he slept all day. I got up and he already had coffee and breakfast ready… I could get used to that, by the way. He insisted on braiding Hannah's hair, but he looked as if he hadn't been to bed, so I took her to school myself. He only got up and showered in time to pick her up this afternoon." "How did the talk go?" he finally asked, quietly.

"Not great." Her voice was tight.

"I see," he said heavily.

"You were right," she blinked back tears. "I should have told him long ago."

"I see." He said again.

She grimaced. "Thanks for not saying _I told you_ _so._ "

"That was your mom's favorite phrase, not mine."

A smile ghosted over her face and was gone. "Did you… Have you talked to him? Have you talked about me? Us?"

"We focus on Hannah, mostly." He let out a long breath. "I judged it best to let the two of you work things out."

An unwilling smile pulled one side of Kate's mouth up. "Mom would be so impressed."

He grunted. "I won't pretend it's easy."

She bit her lip, "How does he seem?" Her voice was soft.

"He was very hurt when he arrived." Jim began slowly. "But, they've been inseparable. He slept in the rocker in Hannah's room the first night. She's eating it up, by the way. But, he seems to know when to back off and give her a little space though, and recognizes when she needs to decompress." He hesitated before adding, "He must know you pretty well to recognize that in Hannah Joy."

"Maybe," Kate said, privately agreeing with him. She bit her lip again, wanting to ask more.

"He seems… thoughtful this afternoon, like he's processing what happened." Jim took a deep breath. "You need to…" But, his jaw clamped shut and he shook his head. "Never mind. I'm staying out of this."

Jim turned into the long drive and parked in the garage. He turned the engine off and they sat in silence.

"Dad, wait," she said finally. "I just wanted to say _thank you,_ for… everything you do, everything you've _done_ , caring for Hannah, being there for us." She pressed her lips together before continuing. "You've been a _rock."_

Jim's eyes widened in surprise.

"I don't say this often enough, but… I love you."

He smiled for the first time then, reaching for her hand, he clasped it firmly. "I love you too, Katie." He cleared his throat slightly, and she waited for him to continue. "You know how I feel about your job, how dangerous it is, but I'm glad you do it." He tugged her in for a hug.

"You are?" she asked, her voice muffled against the wool of his coat.

"I am." Drawing away, she felt the warm puff of his breath on her face. "Every time you put another murderer behind bars and get answers for another family, you're doing that for me, too." His eyes searched hers by the dim light and he cradled her cheek, for a brief moment, then moved as though getting out of the car. He paused. "Listen, that stuff you asked about is in the trunk. I'm going to make myself scarce, go to bed early. I'll be out of your way. Whatever you need…." He handed her the keys as his eyes searched hers.

She nodded. "I've got it. Thanks, Dad."

Neither moved to get out of the car.

"Hopefully," she finally said with a tremulous smile, "I'll see you at breakfast."

Jim nodded slowly, got out of the car, and went into the house alone.

* * *

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* * *

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 _please join my public **facebook group, Bren Williams Readers Forum**_

 _or **Twitter,** **at Bren_Williams.**_


	14. Risks

**_July 25, 2017_**

 _This story is a tough one to resolve because it is so very alternate universe. It was tricky to write and even trickier to close. Much of the story *had* to be told a certain way or everything would fall apart. In fact, I had to invent a plausible reason to speed the wedding up to avoid my characters from talking about certain things. (Hannah) If it weren't for the fact that I love a challenge, I'd have given up on it long ago. Then again, I really love the opening sequence you're about to read, the scene with Hannah. This is the scene that hooked me six years ago. I'm so happy to share it with you at last._

 _Many readers have hinted or begged for a fourth installment. However, not only I am going back to school for a special education certificate, but I have original characters who've waited far longer than Hannah for their stories to be told. [Raiderborn] I'll keep you informed via twitter and my facebook group._

 _There's no epilogue, per say, but there a couple of things I want to share with you._

 _First,_ _ **Under the Table**_ _was written in 2012 as a rated M one-shot designed to fit into Sitting in a Tree, Backwards Part III. Chronologically, it happens after Part 3, but the timeline is a little off. If you've been waiting to read it until the right point in the story, now is the best time._

 _Finally, I want to leave with you with something wonderful I found last summer at Twitter / rewatchCastle . [Remove spaces.] It's Castle and Beckett's happy ending._

 _I never watched the Castle finale last year. I didn't want to watch an episode designed to kill off Kate Beckett and launch an era without her. But I found this image and it gave me the happy ending I craved. It's my desktop, it's on my wall, it's stuck to my bulletin board, and I want to share it with you now at the end of my last Castle fanfiction. Come visit my facebook group to see it. (See below for details.)_

 _The following review arrived this afternoon and I just had to share:_ I hope you finish this story soon.I'm seventy years old and i want to know the ending before I die! _Here you go, Hellen. Glad I could give you a reason to live. XOX_

 _And just like that, the angels sang in a heavenly chorus, Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Sitting in a Tree, Backwards is_ _ **complete**_ _at last! :D_

* * *

SITTING IN A TREE, BACKWARDS

Part III

* * *

 _ **Risks**_

 _ **CHAPTER FOURTEEN**_

* * *

Already the footprints on the well-trodden path were softened by a carpet of snowflakes, glistening in the moonlight as Kate made her way past the pool and tennis courts. The back door was unlocked, as Dad had promised, and she let herself in, stamping her feet in the mud room before brushing off her long, wool coat. She left the scarf wound around her neck and hesitated in the kitchen doorway. The house was silent, but for the occasional creak as it settled under the weight of the snow.

Her knee-high, leather boots squeaked as she crossed the kitchen, finding only silent emptiness in every room. The only visible light glowed over the stairway leading to the bedrooms above. Kate frowned. Dad was in bed, Rick must still be upstairs with Hannah…. If Hannah saw her, it would be difficult to get her settled, or give them time to… discover whether their marriage could be saved or not.

Her footsteps made no sound on the plush carpet of the grand staircase. She hesitated near the top, her lip caught between her teeth. Would Rick be angry that she came so soon? Would he refuse to speak with her?

She gave her head a shake. She needed to know. She could not continue standing on the outside, waiting. They needed to either become a family and heal, or…. Her mouth became a grim line as she took the final step onto the second story, turning down the hall, to where light spilled from an open doorway onto the carpet, and heard Hannah asking for yet another story.

Rick's low voice sounded amused. "Fact or fiction?"

There was a slight pause while Hannah thought. "A true one."

Kate eased closer to the wall as she neared the doorway, listening just out of sight.

"When I was a little boy, my mother and I lived in a crummy apartment full of roaches and mice in the city. Mother had to work, so she found friends to babysit while she was gone—"

There was a rustle and a creak of the mattress. "You didn't have a daddy either?"

Kate squeezed her eyes shut, her brow furrowing. _Trust Hannah to go right for the jugular._

"No, I don't," Rick answered.

Kate could just imagine the look in Hannah's eyes matching the surprise in her voice. "Never in all these years?"

"No, there were older men who helped me grow and taught me things, but it was only Mother and I." He kept his voice light, but there was a catch in his throat.

Hannah's voice was just loud enough to carry to Kate in the hall. "Me too."

"Almost," Rick corrected her. "You have _Papa."_

"Oh yeah." Hannah's tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth and Kate could easily imagine her intent expression as she considered his words. "But he's my _Papa._ It's not the same as having a _daddy."_

Kate edged closer, peering around the door jamb.

Rick's attention was completely focused on their daughter lying under the covers beside him. He leaned over her, planting a hand on the other side of her small frame. "What do you know about having a daddy?"

Hannah stretched her arms over her head as she rattled off, "Oh, Sammy has a daddy and he plays with us, and wrestles. He goes horseback riding and—well, so does Papa, but he taught us to shoot a bow…." She paused for a deep breath. "Jack's daddy plays Minecraft with us and we go on a nature walks to find pretty leaves…. He takes Jack camping all the time, with tents and _everything!"_

Rick lowered his voice. "I used to imagine my daddy would be a pilot and teach me how to fly an airplane or wield a sword."

Kate pressed her fingers to her lips. How long? How had she longed for these two to know each other? To enjoy each other's company and build a relationship? Their voices wrapped around her, filling her with warmth, but for a deep ache in her chest.

"Did he?" Hannah asked, toying with her hair spread out on her pillow.

Kate heard the smile in his voice. "I still don't have a daddy, silly."

"Oh yeah." Hannah pondered this. "Maybe Papa could be _your_ daddy _and_ Mom's daddy!"

Kate shook her head. _If only it were that easy._

"Maybe." Rick said.

"Mom says I'm going to meet my daddy someday," Hannah told him in a sleepy voice.

Kate leaned into the doorway, her heart aching in her chest. When did she tell Hannah that? A year ago? A year and a half?

When Rick spoke, his voice sounded thick, husky even. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Hannah yawned and blinked up at him, her eyelids drifting lower each time. "Sometimes I like to pretend _you're_ my daddy."

Rick did not speak for a long moment. He took Hannah's hand, squeezing it gently. "I'd like that." His voice was quiet, but there was so much emotion in those three words.

A single tear rolled down her cheek as the bond between her husband and their daughter tightened.

"Rick?" Hannah asked, her eyes had drifted closed and her voice was so soft, Kate almost didn't catch it. She closed her eyes tightly, leaning on the door frame, listening.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Will you be my daddy?"

A gasp escaped as Kate covered her mouth. It was too much. She needed to move away, to absorb this. She withdrew into the hall, clutching her belly, as her emotions overflowed like the tears on her cheeks.

Rick's words followed her, "I'd like that very much."

Struggling for control, Kate found the cool wall against her cheek and she slid down, dimly aware that she'd given her position away, that Hannah was asking, "What's that?"

"I… will find out," Rick said, _"Now_ , goodnight," he paused between each word, his voice a caress as he claimed their daughter, naming her at last. "Hannah Joy Beckett… _Castle."_

"Goodnight, Daddy."

There were others sounds, normal good night sounds between a father and daughter, kisses, but all Kate could think was, _I'm a mess. I'm not_ _ready to face him._ She struggled to her feet, trying desperately to pull herself together, not wanting Rick to find her like this. _The bathroom, I just need to—"_ She staggered toward the stairs thinking to escape when his voice stopped her.

"Kate?"

The sound of the bedroom door latching reached her, and she froze, not wanting him to see her face. Kate drew several deep breaths, her back to him. She rubbed her palms against her jeans and turned.

He didn't speak at first, just stared at her. Two days of stubble covered his chin, and the lines on his forehead revealed his stress. She was afraid to meet his eyes, afraid of what she'd find there. Heart hammering away in her chest, her knees felt watery, but she forced herself to meet his gaze anyway, and hold it.

"I—I'm sorry for intruding, Cas—Rick. I—" She swallowed, tucking icy fingers under her arms. "I… was hoping… we could talk." Her voice sounded hollow.

He didn't speak, but his tension was evident in the way he held his shoulders, and the tightness around the eyes. Finally he nodded, gesturing that she lead the way.

It was an eerie feeling, proceeding down the sweeping staircase with Rick behind her. She moved steadily, skimming the glossy handrail with one hand, as the skin of her back prickled with discomfort. At the bottom of the stairs she risked a glance, finding him flushed but unreadable.

"What are you thinking?" she asked, leading him into the library.

He blinked at her. "What?"

One side of her mouth curled downward as she gestured wordlessly.

He crossed his arms, and he frowned. "You drove all the way down here to… ask me what I'm _thinking?"_

She pushed her hair away from her face. Her voice was low. "I've answered your questions, Castle, all of them. But I'm not going to spend the next thirty years apologizing for my mistakes." She met his gaze evenly, struggling to keep her voice even.

He straightened, sucking in a breath as his shoulders tightened. Still, he did not look away. "Then you'd better be prepared to level with me about everything. Trust is a fragile thing an d ours has been decimated."

She nodded slowly.

"You've been crying," he observed.

"I—" she grimaced and looked away. "You sound surprised." She gave a half-shrug.

"Why?"

"Why?" She gaped at him. Why do you think?"

He crossed his arms waiting for her to continue.

The words came slowly at first, but came faster and faster the longer she spoke. "I was crying because my daughter and husband are _finally_ forming the relationship they should've had years ago, and because…." She took a step nearer. "I _want_ that, and as much as I want that, it _scares_ me too, because I'm afraid of being on the outside, and I'm afraid— _terrified_ that you will want a d-divorce." She took a deep breath. "If that happens, God only know what kind of custody arrangement we'll end up with but, worse…." Her voice was lower now, trembling as she abandoned any effort to contain her emotions. "What really frightens me is that you and I will be over before we even start."

The lines on his forehead deepened.

"I am absolutely miserable," she continued, her voice a ragged whisper, "waiting for the other shoe to drop, knowing how badly I fucked this up and wanting…." She turned away, shaking her head. "I need you in my life, Rick. I feel naked, and exposed, and there's not a damn thing I can do about it." She pushed the hair back from her face, staring at the grandfather clock behind him, anywhere but at him. Tears ran down her cheeks unchecked, but she ignored them, ignored the way her voice tightened up, "I'm crying because I _hate_ feeling vulnerable, but I just… I don't know what to _do!_ And I _hate_ that."

When he spoke, his voice was soft, but firm. "Why?"

"What?" she said irritably wiping her eyes with a tissue.

"Why do you need me?"

She gaped at him. "Why do I…." she cast around helplessly.

"Why do you need me?"

"You know why." She whispered.

"You've never said it, not while you're awake, anyway."

She looked confused and he waved it away. "Say it. Now." His voice was firm but quiet.

Kate's voice shook. "I—" She turned to him, looking into his face. Her breathing was fast and shallow, and her tissue became a forgotten wad, clutched tightly in her fist. "I love you," she whispered.

The heat kicked on again, kissing the wetness on her cheeks with cool air, as he took a step toward her. He lifted one hand to wipe her tears away with a thumb as he cradled her face in both of hands. "Was that so hard?" he whispered, his eyes meeting hers with a gentleness she'd thought long past.

She hardly dared breathe.

His eyes were half-lidded, their breath mingled; his smelled of bubblegum toothpaste, the kind Hannah used. She leaned in, her lips parting.

But he withdrew, his face hardening. "Josh."

She blinked at him. "What?"

"Explain to me how you could be dating _him_ one week, and proposing to _me_ the next." He was still very close, but his face was neutral, all of the warmth of a moment ago gone.

"I…" she swallowed, trying to follow the sudden subject change. "I—told you everything last night."

"Tell me what you left unsaid."

"We broke up the week before I proposed to you."

He raised one eyebrow and waited for more.

"It was… right after you and Gina split up."

He stared at her in silence, frowning. "How do you even do that?"

"It was easy." She smiled then, her lips curving easily, her face shining in warmth as she reached hesitantly to clasp his hands in hers. Her eyes held his without apology or hesitation. "He was always a poor substitute for you."

His eyes dropped to the floor for a moment and he seemed to struggle with something. Finally, he spoke. "Kate, I've been down this primrose path of marriage, deceit and lies. You told me before we were married that you and Josh talked about marriage, then I find you've kept secrets. You'll have to forgive me if I seem paranoid for wanting to know how you went from Josh's bed to proposing to _me_ in, what? A week? Two? What _exactly_ happened between you?"

She nodded. "Josh read Heat Wave _and_ Naked Heat."

He shrugged. "So?"

Her voice was grim. "He also found that bottle of tequila you sent me."

His eyes widened and he gestured his confusion. "I sent you tequila?"

"It was last spring or something," Her voice lowered further still. "At the time, I thought you were just trying to sleep with me." She rubbed her forehead. "It didn't help that Rook sent the same thing to Nikki Heat."

He gestured his confusion. "How did he even know about the tequila?"

"I kept it, unopened, with the note you wrote."

"Oh." His voice trailed off as he absorbed this. "So you broke up?"

"Not exactly, but once marriage came up, he started hinting that he wanted you gone. I had considered having a civil marriage with him, to satisfy the terms of the will, but not after that."

He took a step toward her. "Why?"

"I wasn't willing to give up you, _or_ our partnership, to satisfy him," she said, slowly, enunciating very clearly.

The corners of his mouth twitched slightly as he absorbed this.

"It wasn't the same after that, and I," her voice was rough, but she did not look away. "When you broke up with Gina, well, there was no question of what _I_ wanted."

"So you gambled with me. But, what if _I_ wanted a marriage of convenience? Or just to get you into bed? What if it ruined our partnership? What then?"

She stared at him for a moment, her brows furrowed, "Rick, I… I couldn't stay in this holding pattern. It was either marry you, save Kensington manor, and then reveal Hannah, _or_ else lose Dad and Hannah's home before telling you about her." She turned away as emotions overwhelmed her again. Eyes tightly shut, she pushed her hands into her hair and spoke to the empty room, struggling to push the words out. "I _know_ it was selfish of me not to tell you sooner, but everything built up until I…" She turned back to him, her breathing was ragged. "Haven't you ever wanted something so badly, but you knew it was fragile and tenuous, but you wanted to try anyway? That's how I felt. I wanted, I _still_ want, to be with you, to be your wife and your partner, only I've been strangled by these secrets. I want to be done with them, I want a new beginning where we rebuild," her voice became wistful, even child-like, "where we start over."

His mouth fell open, and he took a step back. His face twisted, revealing his struggle. "What if I don't want that anymore? You kept something precious from me and I feel betrayed. Why should I continue with someone like that?"

She couldn't speak for a long moment, past the constriction in her throat, struggling even to breathe. "Is that really how you feel?" she whispered.

"Yes." He hesitated, "And _no."_

She nodded. Tears slid down her cheeks to fall on her scarf, one after another. She shook her head, letting her eyes drift closed. "I'm a cop, Castle, a realist. I don't buy into fairy tales and make believe. I never…. "Rick, you promised me _forever_ and I bought it nook, book and kindle." She stepped nearer, gesturing. "This is real to me. That doesn't mean it will be easy or that there won't be times when we wonder why we took this gamble, but you made me believe in _us,_ you and I forever. I may not have always shown you what I'm thinking and feeling, but know this, I'm playing for keeps, now and always."

Her frankness took his breath away and he stood in silence far too long, his brows knitted and face flushed with emotion.

Watching him with her stomach churning, she swallowed with difficulty. Finally, she turned away, struggling to keep her voice even. "Rick, I—I know it was unforgivable—"

He broke in. _"Unforgivable_ is a mighty big word." When she turned back to him, he continued. "I was just thinking, he said slowly, "that forgiveness is a _choice_. The only question is whether or not the person is willing to risk being hurt, again." He shook his head. "I still can't believe you lied to me for so long." He turned, walking to the dark and empty fireplace. "Last night, after we talked, I was ready to end it."

Her heart pounding in her throat seemed to stop. She couldn't move.

He turned back to her, holding up his wedding ring. "Then, I found your inscription. Do you remember—"

 _"_ _All in."_

He nodded. "All in. It reminded me of that pastor, Rev. Lauer, how passionate he was, so dedicated.

"She nodded. "I wanted to show you how committed I am to making this work."

He didn't speak for several moments.

"Where does all this leave us, Castle?"

He flipped a switch near the mantle, and flames erupted in the fireplace, warming the room with its glow. He turned back to her, nodding thoughtfully. "Let's just say that it will take some time to absorb this."

Their eyes locked into a look of intense understanding.

"Rick," she breathed, moving toward him, she reached for his hand, hardly daring to speak. Their fingers entwined, he brought her hand to his mouth, brushing his lips against her knuckles. She was crying again, the tears spilling over her cheeks at an alarming rate. Without speaking, he pulled her to him.

Her forehead nestled against the crook of his neck, Kate let go. All of the horrible, choking emotions overwhelmed her. Neither spoke for a time.

Finally, tentatively, she reached up, brushing the side of his face with her fingertips, as she lifted her face to his. "I love you." Her lips brushed his. Their eyes met. "I am so in love with you," she whispered, his lips finding hers again.

Finally, she pulled away, leaving her fingers entwined with his as she met his eyes, her face was solemn. "If we can work things out and rebuild trust, I promise you, no more secrets, Castle," she swallowed. "But, there is one thing you should probably know."

He raised a brow, waiting.

"I may be…" a whimsical smile flirted with her mouth, "kind of a Richard-Castle-Mega-Fan."

A slow grin spread across his face. "No…, really?"

"I have all your books."

He grinned. "I know."

"You _know…?"_

"I signed them all just before—well, just before I found Kissed & Killed."

She took a step back, frowning. "You signed them _all?_ What if I didn't _want_ you to sign them?"

He laughed suddenly, unexpected and freeing, beautiful sound in her ears. "How could I not? They were right there and…. I probably increased their value."

"Castle, some of those were my mom's books, and I didn't want them—" the corners of her mouth twitched.

Still grinning, he asked, "Are we really fighting about this? It's done, I can't go back and change it."

She took a deep breath. "No," but she hesitated, something else on her mind. "I may have one more secret."

He drew back, raising one eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Out in the barn." She took a tiny step closer leaning in. Her lips brushed his ear. "Up in the loft."

"That sounds intriguing."

"I… brought that bottle of tequila." She rested her hands on his chest, slowly, giving him time to move away, she smoothed the fabric of his shirt.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. There's a couple of quilts out there, a space heater, and a whole bucket of limes. I thought maybe…."

His hands rested on her waist, and his voice was low, sending shivers down her back. "Maybe what?"

Their lips were so close together, they could almost….

"Maybe I could _rough up your suspect_ …" She fingered the top button on his shirt, a tiny smile playing over her lips.

"You're welcome to try," he whispered back, "but he may _resist arrest.…"_

* * *

"Papa?" Hannah appeared in the kitchen, her bare toes peeping out below the hem of her fuchsia nightgown. "Where's Rick?"

Jim looked up from the newspaper lying next to his bowl on the table. "What do you mean?" his voice was sharp.

Hannah shrugged. "He's not in his room."

Jim nodded slowly, staring across the room at the colorful art decorating the refrigerator.

"Papa?" Hannah climbed onto the chair next to him.

Jim smiled as he closed and folded the newspaper. "Don't worry, Hannah-Banana, he'll turn up."

She scowled back. "Don't call me that."

Jim feigned innocence. "Call you what?"

"Hannah Banana. Cody calls me that and he's…" Her face showed very clearly what she thought of Cody.

"All right, then why don't you hop up here and have your oatmeal. We'll get you ready for school." Hannah was halfway through her cereal when Jim rose to rinse his bowl. Something out the window caught his eye and he stood for a moment, smiling. "Hannah Joy, come here."

"Is it Rick?"

"Come see."

Hannah jumped up from the table and hurried to where Papa stood.

He lifted her up to peer out the window. The smile spread over her face until she fairly glowed.

The vivid colors of sunrise had not yet faded from the sky as the sun illuminated the figures approaching the house, their hands clasped tightly in each other's hands. Kate's profile was visible, as she smiled up into Rick's face, who grinned back. Their long shadows, cast by the rising sun slowly merged while the breeze ruffled their hair, and soft laughter barely reached Jim and Hannah inside the house.

* * *

Hannah, who'd been sitting on Kate's lap, slid one foot onto the rung of Rick's chair. She rose, one foot on Rick's chair, the other on her mother's.

"The truth is, Jim, we kind of feel like we need a do-over, a chance to restart our marriage, doing it right."

Kate, still glowing, nodded, while Hannah wiggled and danced, her knees just hidden beneath the hem of her flannel nightgown.

"We might have a vow renewal down the road, after we work through some things," Kate added.

"Maybe after some marriage counselling."

Kate nodded hesitantly. Smiling shyly.

Finally, Rick grabbed Hannah around the waist to pull her into his lap, tickling her. At last, she settled there, her head against Rick's shoulder, his arm cradling her.

Jim leaned back, taking in every detail of the three of them, from Rick's easy demeanor, Kate's obvious happiness, and Hannah's comfort level with both of them. Smiling, he rose to deposit his dirty dishes in the sink.

"It sounds like everything is tied up neatly then. You're spending the day here, Katie?"

She nodded.

He nodded too. "Very good. I shall make myself scarce. Maybe I'll go out this morning, see if Mrs. Williams needs her walk shoveled." He poured himself a second cup of coffee before meandering in the direction of his office. His door closed a second later.

Kate turned to Hannah, still cuddled in Rick's lap, looking extremely happy. "Do you want to stay home from school?"

She nodded vigorously.

"Hannah," Kate began. "You know how I always said you'd meet your father someday?"

"It's Rick, isn't it?" Hannah interrupted.

Kate blinked and met Rick's eyes. "Yes," she whispered.

"Knew it." Hannah grabbed his other arm, wrapping it around herself and settled in, looking extremely smug.

* * *

 _After six and a half years with this story, I'm going to pop a bottle of Champagne open, or maybe sparkling cider, toast the sweetness of the universe, and maybe, eventually, watch the Castle finale._

 _In lieu of an epilogue, come view a Castle Family Portrait on my facebook group before you go. While there, join up so you can keep track of my future stories. I'll post the link on my twitter account to make it easier._

 _First_ _, be sure and tell your hard-working author how you liked her story as a whole. **Tap that review button….**_

* * *

 _For news on my future, original stories,_

 _please join my public_ _ **facebook group, Bren Williams Readers Forum**_

 _or_ _ **Twitter, at Bren Williams.**_


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